


Rumour Has It

by hpwlwbb, Melacka, Showknight, Tpants



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Female Friendship, Flirting, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpwlwbb/pseuds/hpwlwbb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/pseuds/Melacka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Showknight/pseuds/Showknight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tpants/pseuds/Tpants
Summary: Ginny doesn't remember giving the reporter the quote, but she's certainly never been one to back away from a challenge. And she's certainly not going to deny that she's in a relationship with Hermione just to make a few bigots feel better about themselves.Or, Ginny accidentally outs Hermione to the whole Wizarding World. Fake dating shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Original Female Character(s), Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter
Comments: 60
Kudos: 241
Collections: HP WLW BB 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note (Melacka): Written for the HP WLW Big Bang 2020. A big thank you to the mods for organising such a wonderful event and for being so patient and understanding while I struggled to get this monster complete! I really do appreciate it! A huge thanks to my beta, Pamee, for your wonderful encouragement and invaluable assistance. All remaining mistakes are entirely my own! 
> 
> I've had the enormous good fortune to be paired with two marvelous artists who created art for this fic. Their details can be found below!
> 
>  **Artist:** [Artymakeart](https://artymakeart.tumblr.com/) (tumblr), [Tpants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tpants/profile) (Ao3)  
>  **Medium:** Digital drawing  
>  **Artist's Notes:** Thank you Melacka for your lovely story of these two ladies falling in love! I am so glad I got a sneak peek of this story!  
> Thank you to the mods for organizing a lovely fest!
> 
>  **Artist:**[showknight](https://showknight.tumblr.com) (tumblr)   
> **Medium:** a mix of traditional and digital art.  
>  **Notes:** N/A

Ginny had always been accused of being short tempered. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d been advised to _have patience_ or to _take a breath_ or _for Merlin’s sake, don’t hex him, Ginny!_ But she didn’t think it was a character flaw, really. Over time, she had just come to realise that she’d had an unusually low bullshit tolerance level. She’d tried being nice. She’d tried being restrained. She’d even, for one disastrous weekend, tried to be _subdued_. But she just couldn’t stomach it. More than that, though, she couldn’t stomach the thought that she was being criticised for _exactly_ the kind of behaviour that the men and boys around her routinely engaged in. No one was telling Harry to _be patient_ , no one insulted Ron by telling him to _take a breath_. And she didn’t think the twins had ever been told not to get so worked up about things.

Ginny knew she wasn’t being entirely fair. All her brothers had come in for some firm instruction from their parents over the years. And Harry, even though he’d been restored to his princely status by now, had faced enormous amounts of unfair criticism from a large chunk of Wizarding society. She knew that, but she couldn’t help but think that the _nature_ of the advice offered and the _frequency_ with which people sought to correct her behaviour, was largely due to the fact that she was a woman. And it burned at her. She seethed with rage every time it happened, which just made it worse because she ended up inadvertently proving their point.

After Voldemort’s fall, it took some time for things to return to a semblance of normal. She’d gone back to Hogwarts to finish her NEWTs, glad to have the company of her friends. It had been hard going back there after all the damage that had been done. There were parts of the castle that she still couldn’t face visiting, even after they had been restored. She took some comfort in knowing that she wasn’t the only one suffering through this. She didn’t know anyone who hadn’t lost someone in the War, even if they themselves managed to emerge from the battle unscathed. They’d all had to adjust to a new normal.

The part that Ginny could never really adjust to was the sudden interest that random people had in her daily life. She could never really get used to the way reporters from the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_ magazine would follow her around, trying to get a scoop. She had a newfound appreciation for the way Harry had handled things in the past, but it was a constant struggle to rein in her temper when they got too close to her.

As a way of coping with this, she started amusing herself by answering the reporters’ questions with the most ridiculous responses she could come up with. When someone asked her what she was going to do when she left Hogwarts, she told her that she was going to breed racing Nifflers. When another one followed her around Diagon Alley for an hour, asking what she was buying, she finally told him that she was getting together the ingredients for a brand-new boil-inducing potion she was developing and cordially invited him to be her first test subject. When Rita Skeeter decided that the Wizarding world _needed_ to know why she and Harry had broken up, Ginny had replied, perhaps unwisely, that they had decided to go their separate ways so she could devote herself more fully to pursuing her militant feminist agenda. Rita had made _quite_ a fuss over that one and the story was circulating for weeks. Of all the things she’d been falsely accused of over the years, dumping the saviour of the Wizarding world to pursue a feminist agenda was the only one she could truly get behind.

Luckily for her, Harry took this whole episode in the spirit in which it was intended. They’d dated for a while after the final battle at Hogwarts, but it just never felt right. They’d broken up with the vague idea that they could try again when things had settled down, but neither had shown any interest in pursuing it since then. Ginny was philosophical about the whole thing; it was her mother who was taking it the hardest. She tried to explain that their relationship had run its course for now and if they ever drifted back together again, then so be it. She argued that Harry would always feel like family to them, and that wouldn’t change just because they weren’t together anymore. A lot of people seemed to be re-evaluating their relationship choices in those days, anyway. She didn’t know of many people who were still with the same people they’d been with before the battle took place. Just one more casualty of war.

But then one day she completely lost her head when a new reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ started yelling questions at her and Hermione as they made their way to a restaurant together. She assumed that this one was looking for a big story to really make his name at the paper, but she wasn’t really in a cooperative mood and so resolved to ignore him. She successfully avoided responding as they walked into the restaurant, and then all through the meal. The staff at the restaurant had a firm policy on any members of the media disturbing their guests, which Ginny was quite tickled by. How many times had this happened that they needed a _rule_ about it?

They’d shared a lovely meal during which Hermione had talked excitedly about an opportunity at the Ministry that she had her eye on. Ginny had been incredibly amused by Hermione’s usual mix of supreme confidence in her own ability and flashes of insecurity about whether she was prepared enough.

So amused in fact, that she didn’t even notice when the photographer snuck in.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny woke slowly, feeling resentful of the bright light forcing its way into her bedroom. The world really had no business being so bright so early in the day. She glared at the open curtains and cursed herself for not thinking to close them the night before. She waved her hand vaguely in their direction and was pleased to see them swish closed quickly. Not the most impressive form of wandless magic, but certainly one of the more useful ones she could manage.

Ginny rolled herself out of bed a little too quickly and winced at the pain in her head. Grasping at it in confusion, she tried to remember what she’d done the night before to warrant such a punishment. She hadn’t had _that_ much to drink, had she? Keeping a firm hold on her head and trying not to walk into the furniture, she made he way unsteadily to the bathroom.

Once there, she sighed at the cool feel of the tiles beneath her feet and briefly considered just lying down on the floor. She seemed to be overheating on top of everything else. After a moment spent clutching desperately at the door frame, she forced herself further into the room. She opened the cupboard above the sink and rummaged around, looking for a suitable cure for a hangover.

“Come on,” she muttered. “There must be something.”

She took everything out of the cupboard one by one, piling them all up haphazardly in the sink, until she was absolutely certain that there was no hangover potion anywhere in there.

She groaned loudly and braced herself against the sink, leaning her forehead against the mirror, eyes closed and trying to remember the last time she had stocked up on the potion, or when she had last checked to see if she had the ingredients at hand to brew it herself.

Without moving her head or opening her eyes, she groped for the taps and turned the cold water on. She splashed water over her face several times before she dared to open her eyes. Looking down, she realised a minute too late that all the stuff from the cupboard was still in the sink. She shut the water off hurriedly and glared down at the mess. She poked half-heartedly at a few soggy looking items and watched glumly as a cardboard box holding her small supply of tampons disintegrated slowly as the water drained out of the sink.

“Great,” she groaned.

Deciding that this was all a bit too much for her to be dealing with in her current state, she left the bathroom and made her way slowly to the kitchen. What had she _done_ last night? She’d never had a hangover like this in her life. She tried not to think about the fact the someone could have slipped something into her food or her wine, deciding that the best course of action right now was to just keep walking.

When she made it to the kitchen, she squinted through the bright light at the table. There was a plate of buttered toast, a small bowl of fruit and a large cup of coffee, kept fresh and protected under a magical shield. There was also a large jug of water and a glass ready for her. Propped against it was a folded note. She reached through the shield for the note, enjoying the warm tingle of magic as she did so.

_Dear Ginny_

_You were in a pretty bad way when I left you last night, so I thought you could do with some help this morning. Start with the toast and see how you go but do try to eat it all. You’ll be incredibly dehydrated and will need something to help you recover._

_I also brewed you some hangover potion and left it on your stove, you should be able to drink it safely around 11am._

_Love from_

_Hermione_

Ginny looked again at the spread of food and drinks in front of her and then to her stove, where there was indeed a fresh cauldron of hangover potion bubbling away. There was a timer counting down next to it, showing that it would be ready in about 15 minutes. She sighed in relief and sat down at the table, reaching for the jug of water and pouring herself a glass.

“I love you, Hermione,” she said to the empty room.

As she sipped at her water cautiously, she decided that she’d need to find a way to thank her for all this. Maybe she could take her out for a nice meal or something out in Muggle London. They’d be less likely to be harassed by reporters there. She was almost sure that Hermione had been telling her about a film that she was looking forward to seeing, maybe Ginny could invite her out to the cinema.

Ginny was very proud of her knowledge of the Muggle world. Part of it was just listening to Hermione and Harry talk about it over the years, but she had also made a point of trying to understand the Muggle world and how it worked. Hermione and Harry both lived in Muggle London but had various magical conveniences installed in their homes. Innocent enough to any unsuspecting Muggles, but perfectly obvious to wizards.

Ginny hadn’t understood, at first, why they both chose to live away from the Wizarding community, but over time she came to realise that it was what was best for them. They’d both grown up in Muggle households, and just like she, herself, couldn’t picture herself living amongst the Muggles and having to hide her magic, she grew to understand that Harry and Hermione liked some parts of the Muggle world. For Harry, of course, a large part of it was simply that he didn’t want the attention. His home had more magical protections than most Ministry buildings, but every time he ventured to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, people would gawk at him like he was an exhibit at the zoo. Hermione, on the other hand, wanted to study at a Muggle university and so she needed to have a base in the Muggle community. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to obtain the right qualifications and identification documents required to have a foot in both worlds, so Ginny had tried to be supportive of that.

Ginny took a careful bite of toast and chewed slowly. She still couldn’t figure out what had made her drink so much the night before. It wasn’t a special occasion, so she hadn’t been celebrating anything. It wasn’t like she and Hermione hadn’t seen each other in a long time, either, so it wasn’t joyful reunion drinking. She hadn’t even had a particularly bad day, or even a bad week, so she didn’t need to drown her sorrows. She really was at a loss to understand it.

She took comfort in the thought that at least she wouldn’t have done anything stupid or embarrassing. She surely would have remembered _that_.

* * *

Having successfully eaten and drunk her way through everything Hermione had left for her, Ginny paid for that day's _Daily Prophet_ when it was delivered. Deciding that whatever counted for news that day could wait for later, she headed back to the bathroom. She thought she should head to Diagon Alley and see if she could pick up a nice thank you gift for Hermione, and she could go to see George at the shop while she was there.

Freshly showered, dressed, and feeling halfway human again, she strolled happily through Diagon Alley. She couldn’t help but notice that she was receiving a bit more attention than she usually did, with a few people whispering and pointing. She couldn’t think why, she hadn’t done anything worthy of attention recently. She’d been experiencing something of a slump on the Quidditch pitch lately, hardly scoring any goals at all. She thought it was possible that some sports reporter had written an unflattering opinion piece about her or something. Satisfied with this explanation, Ginny wandered into Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, hoping to catch Ron or George in a quiet moment. George grinned at her from behind the counter and gestured for her to head up to the flat upstairs.

“Ron’s up there,” he called out as she passed. “Pretty eager to speak to you, I imagine.”

“What for?”

“Like you don’t know,” George said, smirking at her. “Someone’s been a naughty girl.”

He wagged a finger at her teasingly and she stopped walking, completely bewildered.

“Go on, missy,” he continued, still talking in an infuriatingly smug voice. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Explaining?” Ginny echoed weakly, suddenly worried about where all this was heading. “About what?”

“Ginny!” Ron bellowed from the head of stairs.

She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows in question. He started to clatter down the stairs towards her, brandishing a newspaper in his hands like a weapon.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, Ron?”

“Well that’s rich, coming from you,” Ron cried, thrusting the paper at her. “Looks like you’re the one who’s been twisting knickers these days.”

“Ronald Weasley!” Ginny said in her best imitation of their mother. “You be careful how you speak to me or you’ll be getting an unpleasant hex or two when you least expect them.”

“Just cut the crap, Gin,” he huffed. “Look at what they’re saying about you in the paper!”

“What are they saying?” she asked. “Just the usual rubbish, I expect.”

“Usual rubbish?” Ron scoffed, his voice rising again. “Usual rubbish! Look at that! There!”

He pointed a finger accusingly at the enormous headline on the front page.

**EXCLUSIVE: “WE’RE IN LOVE!” GINNY WEASLEY AND HERMIONE GRANGER GO PUBLIC WITH THEIR RELATIONSHIP!**

_The_ Daily Prophet _can exclusively reveal that two of the most prominent witches in our society are off the market! That’s right! Ms Hermione Granger, 24, and Ms Ginevra Weasley, 23, are an item!_

_“It was inevitable, really,” Ms Weasley gushed. “We’ve been friends for so long and we’ve been through so much together, so we really thought, why fight it?”_

_Ms Granger declined to comment but this reporter can reveal that she and Ms Weasley looked very cosy together during their intimate dinner last night._

Ginny stared at the page, uncomprehending. Beneath this ludicrous beginning was a whole story about their supposed relationship. Quotes from her over the years, speculation on how long it had been going on and a whole series of pictures which, while definitely real, had been taken in such a way to give them a romantic feel when in reality there had been no such thing at the time. There was a photo of the two of them hugging, one of Ginny looking admiringly at Hermione as she spoke and one of Hermione kissing her goodnight. Ginny had moved her head just as Hermione moved and she’d ended up kissing her on the lips. They’d had a great laugh about it at the time.

“Huh,” Ginny said quietly. “That’s a new one. I don’t remember saying any of that.”

“It’s not the only one!” Ron snarled. “Look at what they've got on _Witch Weekly_! Where did they even _get_ this photo?”

> Image Description: A _Witch Weekly_ cover featuring Ginny and Hermione. They are embracing with Ginny’s arm around Hermione’s back and looking straight at the viewer. Ginny wears a green ballgown, and Hermione wears a blue evening gown with a slit and a heart-shaped purse. Text over the image reads “Exclusive! Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger are official” and “‘We’re in love…’ the couple admits to the press." Art by [Showknight](https://showknight.tumblr.com). End description.

Ginny glanced at the magazine Ron was holding up and smiled.

“Hey, that is a _great_ photo of us!” she cried happily. “You know, I told Hermione that was a great colour on her! Can I have this? I might put it in a scrapbook or something.”

“Ginny,” Ron breathed, sounding a little dazed. “This isn’t a joke, you know.”

“Who said it was? But it’s not much of an exclusive, is it?” she continued breezily. “Not if it’s in both the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_. Very sloppy journalism, on the whole.”

She tossed the paper down on the table and looked at each of her brothers in turn, resolutely ignoring their expectant expressions.

“I could really do with a cup of tea, you know.” Neither of them said anything. “How about you two? Either of you planning to do the right thing and offer your poor sister some refreshment? I’ve had a bit of a rough morning.”

“Now isn’t the time for tea, Ginny!” Ron hissed. “Look what they’re saying about you! Look what they’re saying about Hermione!”

“It’s hardly slanderous, Ron, they’re just making up a relationship that doesn’t exist. They’ve done it before.”

“Yeah but it’s different this time, Gin,” George insisted. “Every other time they’ve put into an imaginary relationship with a bloke.”

“So?”

“So? You know how people are, they don’t look too kindly on anyone who’s, well, different.”

“Different, George?” Ginny said acidly. “ _Different_? You mean gay, don’t you? If that’s what you mean, then just say it.”

“No, Gin, I mean _different_ ,” George insisted. “People want a good story, something salacious that’ll make them feel better about their thoroughly boring lives and their thoroughly conventional choices. This’ll be just what they need, something to get worked up over. Something to be outraged over.”

“Since when do you care about outrage?”

“I don’t,” he said simply. “It wouldn’t make a difference to me if you were in a relationship with Hermione or any other woman, but I’m your brother. I’m not some idiot on the street who decides he doesn’t like a young Pureblood witch throwing herself away—”

“Enough!” Ginny held up a finger warningly. “You’ve made your point.”

“Not yet, I haven’t. How will Hermione feel about being outed like this?”

“Hermione came out years ago,” Ginny said uncertainly. “People know she’s into women, she’s dated other witches and hasn’t exactly tried to hide it.”

“But she hasn’t been in the papers!” Ron burst out. “She came out just to us, people she counts as family! Close friends! That’s it.”

“Ron’s right, this is a whole different level. Have you spoken to her?”

“Not yet.”

“Well you better do it soon, she gets the _Daily Prophet_ , too.”

Ginny tried to shrug off the concern, but she couldn’t deny the sense of anxiety she felt settle over her all of a sudden. It wasn’t just how Hermione would react that she needed to worry about. How would everyone else react?

“Does Mum know?” she said apprehensively, looking from one brother to the other.

“Dunno,” George said with a shrug. “I’d say not yet, we probably would’ve been able to hear her yelling from here if she’d seen it.”

Ginny laughed uneasily and quickly changed the subject.

“Did you see the match this weekend, then? Chudley Cannons haven’t got a chance this season, I reckon.”

It had the desired effect. Ginny watched with satisfaction as Ron swelled with rage in preparation for a valiant defence of his Quidditch team. As she engaged in a half-hearted debate with him about it for the next twenty minutes, her mind was racing. She had to see Hermione. Very soon. She knew that Hermione would have seen the article in the _Daily Prophet_ and she had no idea how she would take it. Hermione was careful to guard her privacy, so much more than she used to be. And now Ginny had to face the idea of a confrontation with her over her accidental outing to the broader Wizarding community.

The thought filled her with dread. So much so, that she would almost prefer to talk to her mum about it instead.

 _Almost_.

* * *

Ginny had set up a post box when she’d started gaining more notoriety as a Quidditch player. And with that combined with her unfortunately high profile since the War, she’d been dealing with way more mail than she could reasonably get through every day. She’d set up a few exceptions to the rules for the post box, of course, so the _Daily Prophet_ and mail from her family and friends could get through to her quickly. It was only the broader Wizarding community she was trying to keep at a safe distance.

Now, she approached the post box cautiously, looking at it almost as if it would bite her.

Giving herself a small shake, she waved her wand in the complicated motion required to unlock the box. A swarm of letters flew out so fast that she was only just able to duck out of the way, hitting the ground hard and covering her head as they swirled above her.

 _Perfect_ , Ginny thought. _Just fucking perfect_.

She flattened herself to the ground and started to crawl across the room on her stomach, grumbling and cursing as the letters just seemed to follow her. She covered her head and pointed her wand straight up, blasting a hole through the letters. She jumped up quickly and made a break for her bedroom, casting a shield charm behind her as she went. She slammed the door and slumped against it, hanging her head in frustration. She could hear the envelopes crashing into the door over and over and over again.

Did all the people writing her letters get together and decide to coordinate this attack? Or was it just a coincidence that _all_ the letters were out for her blood? It was an impressive bit of magic, either way. She stayed in her bedroom for another few minutes, trying to wrack her brains for the best spell to deal with a swarm of attacking envelopes. She could just set them all on fire, of course, but something told her that having a massive fireball in her lounge room would not be advisable.

Reminding herself firmly that she was an accomplished witch who had faced down some of the worst Death Eaters in history, Ginny straightened her shoulders and raised her wand, ready to do battle. She flung the door open and started casting spells furiously. She banished some letters, set fire to some others, and froze some in mid-air. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but she was actually starting to enjoy this whole thing. It was actually quite amusing to her that she’d managed to annoy _so_ many people with one innocent remark, one tiny white lie about being in love with a woman. It was a pity she couldn’t remember saying it, of course. It was hard to savour it when it was all a big blank in her mind.

Just as she was trying to blast her way through yet another huge pile of envelopes, she recognised Hermione’s owl sitting on the windowsill. She froze, staring at the owl and letting the letters pile up around her unmolested. She broke out of her shock when one of the other envelopes smacked into her face. She scowled and set it on fire, just out of spite.

When she turned her attention back to the owl, it looked at her imperiously and held out its leg, clearly wanting her to take the neat scroll attached there. It was amazing how snooty an owl could look, really. Ginny didn’t know why Hermione had chosen this one when she could have gotten a nice friendly one that wouldn’t give her friends the creeps.

The owl ruffled its feathers at her and made what she assumed was an impatient noise.

“Okay, okay,” she huffed, making her way over with difficulty. “I’m coming.”

At her movement, the other letters started up their attack again. It was almost like they could sense weakness. Ginny eventually managed to scramble over, finding herself feeling suddenly desperate to know what Hermione would say. Surely, she wouldn’t take it the wrong way? She’d know that Ginny had been joking, just doing it to rile up the ridiculous man from that stupid paper. Hermione wouldn’t hold it against her.

Would she?

Resolutely ignoring the minor tremor in her hands, Ginny gently untied the parchment. The owl flew away almost immediately, and Ginny felt her heart sink within her. Hermione didn’t want a reply.

_Dear Ginny_

_Pop round to my place when you can. I’m making chicken for dinner._

_Hermione_

Ginny blinked and read the note again. Nothing. No mention of the _Daily Prophet_ or the photos or their blossoming love.

Nothing.

Maybe this whole thing would blow over quicker than she thought it would.

Another letter smacked against the back of her head and she rolled her eyes. Maybe not.

Okay, then. Dinner with Hermione it was. They’d figure it out together.


	3. Chapter 3

She apparated directly into Hermione’s living room an hour later. She had showered and taken special care with her appearance. It almost felt like she was going for a job interview or something. She was feeling absurdly nervous about this meeting, no matter how many times she reminded herself that it was just Hermione.

“Ginny?” Hermione called out from the bedroom. “Can you check on the food for me, please? I’m just in the middle of something.”

“Okay!” Ginny called back, relieved by how normal Hermione sounded.

She moved towards the kitchen and peered cautiously into the oven. Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing was on fire, so she counted it as a win. Hermione was probably just trying to be kind in giving her something to do, they both knew that she wasn’t much good in the kitchen. She could peel and chop vegetables with the best of them, having got plenty of practice living at home with her family, but actual cooking always seemed to go badly for her. She occasionally thought that she should just swallow her pride and ask her mum to give her some lessons. She was sure that she would be thrilled at the prospect.

“How does it look?” Hermione asked, coming up behind her quietly.

Ginny jumped a little in shock and managed to burn her hand on the oven. She scowled at Hermione and shook her hand uselessly.

“Ow.”

“I think I might have some burn salve somewhere,” Hermione said, peering at the small burn with concern. “Run it under some cold water and I’ll be right back.”

Ginny did as she was told and submitted to Hermione’s ministering without complaint.

“When did you learn to be so sneaky, anyway, Hermione?” Ginny asked once the burn had been thoroughly dealt with. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Maybe you were just so engrossed in your admiration of my cooking skills that your other senses were dulled temporarily?”

“Very funny,” Ginny said sulkily. “Look, I think we need to talk.”

“Oh?” Hermione said with a small smile. “What about?”

“Hermione.”

“Did something happen today that might affect us both? Something a little life-changing, perhaps?”

“Look—”

“What the hell were you thinking, Ginny? Did you say all that rubbish to that reporter, or did they just make it up?”

Ginny winced and muttered, “I don’t know.”

“What?” Hermione barked.

“I don’t remember saying any of that,” Ginny continued sheepishly. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I didn’t. I think someone spiked my drink.”

“They didn’t spike your drink, Gin. You just drank too much!”

“Hey!”

“Imagine my shock when I read the paper this morning and saw that I was in love with you! It would have been nice to know that _before_ it was announced to the entire Wizarding community, Ginny!”

“Hermione, I’m sor—”

“I’ve been dodging angry letters all day because of you! I had at least a dozen howlers at work and there was even a _very_ nasty curse in a letter that I got while I was at uni today. _Muggle_ university, Ginny. I was surrounded by _Muggles_ , do you understand? Do you know how hard that is to explain? Exploding envelopes and pieces of paper that could cover you with boils or pustules or something even more horrible? I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up in trouble with the Ministry over this whole thing.”

“Well, you can just tell them it’s not your fault, you can’t be held responsible if someone sends you—”

“That’s not the point!” Hermione bellowed and Ginny shrank back, hands raised defensively. “I can deal with all of this, Ginny. This isn’t my first time having something like this happen, remember? I don’t need you to tell me how to deal with this, okay?”

“Okay, I’m sor—”

“Stop apologising!”

Ginny’s mouth snapped shut and she watched apprehensively as Hermione got herself under control again.

“Look, I don’t know what exactly happened to start all of this,” Hermione said quietly a moment later. “But you should have come to see me about it. You should have spoken to me about it.”

“I didn’t know, Hermione, honest. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw it in the paper this afternoon.”

“Did you say those things to that reporter? Did you tell him that we’re in love and all of that nonsense?”

“I—” Ginny paused, lowering her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do about it?”

“I was hoping it would just go away,” Ginny admitted awkwardly. “But then I had to wage a war with some very determined letters this afternoon and thought that might not be possible.”

Hermione laughed and Ginny grinned at her, relieved.

“I really am sorry, Hermione. I never thought any of this would happen.”

“Don’t worry about it, Gin,” Hermione replied, touching her on the shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll respond to it and the _Prophet_ will realise there is no story to be had and everyone will move on with their lives. It might be a little uncomfortable for a while, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“I guess so.”

Hermione started moving around the kitchen, pulling vegetables out of the fridge and grabbing bowls and plates. She put down two cutting boards and two knives and gestured at Ginny to start chopping.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to say?” Hermione said companionably as she started preparing a salad. “Are you going to release a statement? Or were you thinking an interview would be better?”

“I was really hoping not to have to do either, to be honest.”

“You may not have a choice, Ginny. Your management at the Harpies might have something to say about it, for a start.”

“A female Quidditch player who happens to be a lesbian? Nothing new under the sun there, Hermione.”

“Yes, but you’re _not_ a lesbian, Gin.”

“What difference does that make? Why should I have to deny something that is so flagrantly untrue? Doesn’t it bother you that I should need to deny a relationship with you when I wouldn’t have to do that if you were a man?”

“A lot of things bother me, Gin. That doesn’t change reality.”

Hermione stooped down to check the chicken and then switched the oven off.

“So, you want me to deny it, then?”

“What I want doesn’t really matter,” Hermione replied, turning to face Ginny with a kind smile. “But I do have some small experience with the Wizarding world and prejudice.”

“And I don’t?”

“Of course!” Hermione agreed readily. “You do have some experience of this sort of thing, but not in the same way. Surely you must see that?”

“What are you trying to say?” Ginny barked, starting to lose her patience.

“I’m trying to say that the Wizarding community can be incredibly conservative and will not look kindly on any relationship that doesn’t fit the norm.”

Ginny heaved a sigh and looked down at the tomatoes she had been chopping. She’d mangled them quite badly in her distraction.

“I don’t like the idea of having to deny my relationship with you, Hermione.”

“You’re not denying your real relationship with me, Ginny! Only the made up one that the paper is reporting. Just release a simple statement and we’ll be able to put this whole thing behind us.”

“You won’t be able to, though,” Ginny said regretfully. “I’ve outed you.”

“I wasn’t really _in_ ,” Hermione said calmly. “Not for a while, now.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know you are, don’t worry about it.” Hermione tipped Ginny’s tomatoes into the salad bowl and mixed it up quickly. “But enough of all this, now. This can all wait until tomorrow, anyway.” She drizzled dressing over the salad and nudged Ginny with her shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

* * *

While she was helping Hermione with the washing up, a sudden crash at the window had them both whipping around, wands raised, but they both relaxed when they saw it was only another owl.

“Errol,” Ginny groaned. “Guess my parents have found out then.”

She picked Errol up and carried him carefully over to Hermione’s owl, encouraging him to perch next to it to get some rest. She fished an owl treat out of the box Hermione held out to her and then removed the rolled-up piece of parchment. She sighed in relief when she realised it was her dad’s handwriting. She wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to know what her mother thought just yet.

_Dear Ginny_

_Your mother is quite distressed about some news she has seen today and would like to speak to you urgently. She has been unable to reach you on the floo all day. Please come and see her as soon as you can._

_We’re not mad, Ginny. Just surprised. Please, just come and explain what’s happened. Your mother really is quite upset._

_Love_

_Dad_

“Well, it could be worse,” Ginny said bracingly. “It could be a howler.”

“You don’t think your parents would send you a howler over being in a relationship with me, do you?”

“Not at all, my parents love you!” Ginny said quickly. “It’s just the way they’re finding out about our supposed relationship, you know what my mum’s like. I better go and deal with this.”

“Yeah, you should,” Hermione agreed. “Let me know how it works out, okay?”

“Definitely.”

Ginny could never remember feeling so awkward with Hermione before. She suddenly didn’t know how to act around her.

“So, uh, I’ll be going then,” she said haltingly. “Bye.”

“Gin.” Hermione stopped her with a hand to her shoulder and Ginny mustered a smile. “It’s going to be okay.”

Ginny huffed a laugh.

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. We’ll find a way through this. It’s hardly the toughest situation we’ve ever been in.”

“Would it be so bad for me to just ignore it?” Ginny burst out suddenly. “Like, would you mind terribly if we were just pretending for a while?”

“Ginny,” Hermione sighed. “Be reasonable.”

“I am! What’s unreasonable about wanting to keep our private lives private?”

“What’s private about pretending to be in a relationship for the benefit of some media speculation?”

“I’m just saying that we don’t address it at all, just let them think what they want! Let them think I’m gay! Let them think we’re in love! What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I don’t know what the worst thing would be, Gin, and that’s the problem!” Hermione cried. “What if you lose your spot in the team? Or people start harassing your family? What happens when people start calling you names? What are you going to do when someone calls you a dyke?”

“I’ve been called worse things, Hermione.” She covered her face with her hands and leaned against the wall, groaning loudly. She dropped her hands and looked miserably at Hermione. “I just don’t want to do this, okay? I don’t _want_ to release a statement or give an interview or whatever. That just plays right into their hands! It justifies the outrage!”

“No, it doesn’t! It just clarifies—”

“I don’t owe them clarity!”

“I know you don’t, but—”

“But, what? Why should I pander to this nonsense? I wouldn’t bother responding to any fake relationship with a man, I’d just let it die down. I hate the idea that I need to do it just because you’re a woman!”

“So what are you going to do instead? Just pretend we’re in love? You gave them the quote, Ginny. It’s not the same, you know it isn’t! You started this and you have to end it!”

“But what if—”

“Look, let’s just call all the what ifs Plan B, okay? Plan A still needs to be nipping this nonsense in the bud.”

“Fine,” Ginny agreed reluctantly. “Okay, Plan A it is. I trust your judgment in this.”

“A wise choice,” Hermione said solemnly. “After all, if you can’t trust your fake girlfriend, who can you trust?”

Ginny was still laughing as she disapparated with a crack.

* * *

When she arrived at the Burrow, half the family seemed to be there waiting for her.

“Is this an intervention?” she joked weakly, glancing from one face to the other.

She couldn’t help but notice that George was grinning at her rather more than the situation called for.

_Prat_.

She glared at him when he winked at her.

“Ginny,” her mother said tearfully. “Ginny, what’s happened? How could you not tell us this?”

“Mum,” she groaned. “It’s all a misunderstanding, I swear.”

“A misunderstanding?” Mrs Weasley shrieked and Ginny winced a little, wishing suddenly that she’d put this off until the next day.

“It’s actually a funny story,” she said lamely. “Hermione and I are just friends, Mum, you know that.”

“I don’t know what I know, Ginny! I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

“Mum! Don’t be so bloody dramatic!”

“Don’t speak to your mother that way, Ginny,” her dad said firmly. “I know we’re all a little stressed and perhaps we are acting a little out of character,” he looked at her significantly and she rolled her eyes, “but we must strive to remain civil.”

“We’re all here for you, Gin,” George said slyly. “We just want to help you.”

“I don’t need any help!”

“Hermione is a lovely girl,” her dad started awkwardly, “and we wouldn’t want you to think we disapprove of _her_ —”

“What _do_ you disapprove of, then?” Ginny interjected acidly.

“How could you let this happen, Ginny?” Mrs Weasley thundered. “How could you _do_ this?”

“I haven’t done anything, Mum! There is nothing more between Hermione and I than there has ever been!”

“Has this been going on for years? Is _this_ the real reason you broke up with Harry?”

“Again with that!” Ginny cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Mum, Harry and I broke up because we realised we didn’t love each other, okay? Not because I was secretly pining after Hermione all these years.”

“Then what is this? Explain to me what this is!” Mrs Weasley continued, angrily brandishing the _Daily Prophet_ at her. “This didn’t just come out of nowhere, Ginny. Look! They’ve got pictures and everything!”

“It was all a joke! A stupid comment I made to some idiot of a reporter, who knew they’d take it seriously?” Ginny said defensively. “And the pictures are perfectly innocent! They’ve just made it look like there’s something there.”

“And the photo of you two kissing? Have they made _that_ look like something else, as well?”

Ginny glanced down at the paper and smirked.

“Don’t you smirk at me, young lady!”

“Young lady?” Ginny scoffed. “Mum, I’m not at Hogwarts anymore, you don’t get to scold me and send me to my room when I’ve been bad.”

“Ginny, I just don’t understand any of this,” she wailed. “Why would you say you were in love with Hermione if you’re not? Why would you open yourself up to that kind of danger?”

“Danger? Where is the danger in me loving Hermione?”

“So, you admit it, then?” George said with a grin. “I’ve often thought there was a little something between you two.”

“You stay out of this!” Ginny snapped. “Who asked you?”

“We just want to help you, Ginny,” Percy said seriously, and Ginny rolled her eyes. “You just don’t seem to realise the seriousness of the situation. The risk to your future job prospects alone—”

“I’m not worried about my job prospects, Perce!” Ginny snapped. “And none of this matters, anyway. I’ve spoken to Hermione and _she_ knows that none of this is real, so what does it matter what other people think?”

“It matters when people think it’s okay to send you hate mail, Gin!” Ron said loudly. “And Hermione, too. I’ve seen what those kinds of nutters send through, and we don’t exactly have the protection of Hogwarts anymore. What are you going to do about that?”

“I’ve already got a system in place for that sort of thing, Ron. I’ve been getting mail from nutters for years now.”

“But this is different!”

“How is it different?”

“Because now they think you’re gay!”

“So, what if they think that? Who gives a fuck—”

“Ginny! You watch your language, please!” Mr Weasley interjected angrily. “There wouldn’t be a problem if you were actually, uh, well—”

“Gay?”

“Right.” Mr Weasley coughed, going rather red in the face. “But what happens when you start dating a man again? What happens when that gets in the papers? And you know it will, it always has so far.”

“Well,” Ginny said slowly, feeling a twinge of doubt. “I’ll deal with that when it comes up. I’m not planning to date anyone in the near future, anyway.”

“Yes, but when you do? What happens to your supposed romance with Hermione, then? What happens to Hermione, come to that? Won’t she just be ridiculed and maligned in the paper for your betrayal?”

“Betrayal?” Ginny cried. “What is happening right now? Am I really having this conversation?”

“Ginny, you need to think about the future. Yours _and_ Hermione’s. Together or separate.”

“Dad—”

“Look, that’s all we’re going to say on the subject. It’s getting late.”

“Arthur!” Mrs Weasley objected. “I certainly have more to say!”

“Ginny has heard our concerns, now it’s up to her. This is none of our business, Molly.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” Ginny crowed gleefully.

“Ginny!” Mr Weasley snapped. “I’m saying that we will leave you to make a decision, but you need to figure out how you plan to respond. This thing could get very ugly _very_ quickly and you need to be ready to deal with it if it does.”

Ginny sighed and threw herself into an armchair, dislodging a teetering pile of clean laundry in the process.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Ginevra Weasley! What did I say about language like that?”

“It’s just not your day today, is it, Gin?” George said cheerfully. “Causing messes all over the place.”

“Prat,” she murmured half-heartedly as she leaned down to pick up the clothes.

“This abominable language of yours really must stop.”

“That’s _enough_ , George!” Mr Weasley groaned as Ginny threw a towel at his head.

“Anyone fancy a cup of tea?” Ron asked. “I don’t know about you lot, but I could do with some food, as well.”

“Not me, I ate at Hermione’s.”

“Oh, a nice romantic meal with your girlfriend, then? Sounds divine, shall we be reading about it in tomorrow’s paper or can you spill the secrets now?”

“George, I am warning you!”

“Your jealousy is both obvious and unimportant, George,” Ginny replied with dignity. “And now, if you will all excuse me, I must retire to my place of residence. I have some letters of great import to compose.”

And with a regal wave and a beatific smile, she walked out of the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny slept badly that night, plagued by bizarre dreams where she was attacked by letters and scolded by her mother. When she woke up, she still felt groggy and disoriented with a vague feeling of déjà vu. Rubbing her tired eyes, she rolled out of bed and walked straight to the bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. She turned the shower on so the water was just barely warm and stepped under the spray gratefully. She knew she had to make a decision today about how she was going to handle her supposed relationship with Hermione, but she still didn’t feel right about it. She had only the vaguest memories of what had happened with the reporter and no idea _why_ she’d thought it was a good idea to make up this fictional relationship.

Ginny groaned and leaned her head against the wall, allowing the water to fall freely down her back.

“Stupid,” she muttered. “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.”

She reached blindly for her shampoo and poured far too much into her palm, cursing as half of it slid out of her hand and down the drain. As she worked the shampoo through her hair, she started thinking about what kind of a statement she should make. She wasn’t sure if she should just give a bland denial or get a little heated. She _did_ enjoy getting heated with the press, but that usually only caused her more trouble.

 _I would like to address the false report which appeared yesterday in the_ Daily Prophet _. I am not now, nor have I ever been in a relationship with Hermione Granger._

Ginny shook her head absently and washed the shampoo out. That wasn’t quite right.

 _It has been brought to my attention that there was an erroneous report in the_ Daily Prophet _regarding a supposed relationship between myself and Hermione Granger._

Too formal. Perhaps it should be written in the third person, as if she had delegated the unpleasant duty of refuting false news reports to an underling.

Ginny reached for the conditioner and thought that a well-spoken underling would be dead useful right about now.

_Ms Ginevra Weasley would like to formally refute the baseless accusation…_

No, that wasn’t right at all. It was hardly an accusation when _she_ was the one who gave them the quote.

_Hermione Granger has always been more like a sister to me…_

Ginny stopped that train of thought quickly, feeling vaguely uneasy about it.

A sister? No, Hermione wasn’t like a sister to her. Not that she really knew what it was like to have a sister, but it felt wrong somehow to even think of her in that way. She was sure there were some people who would like to read quite a bit into her aversion to thinking of Hermione as a sister. But there were no deeper meanings here, she knew. Ginny just resented having to explain herself to anyone. Even more than usual, in this case. She knew that people wouldn’t be nearly so bothered if she’d been dating a Muggle-born man. No one had cared this much when she’d been seeing Dean Thomas at Hogwarts or the few men she’d enjoyed brief dalliances with since she’d broken up with Harry.

If Hermione were a man, no one would bat an eyelid. She would have no need to craft a ridiculous statement denying the relationship. She’d just be able to ride it out and wait for someone else to earn the attention of the press.

“Nosey bastards,” she grumbled, rinsing the conditioner out of her hair.

 _Ginny Weasley cordially invites all the staff at the_ Daily Prophet _and all their readers to fuck right off…_

No. Definitely not that.

Ginny shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. She ran a towel briskly over her body and then drew on her robe. She hurriedly bundled her hair up in the damp towel and wandered back to her bedroom. She picked up her wand and pointed it at her bed, watching with satisfaction as the sheets were stripped efficiently off the bed and then banished to her overflowing laundry basket. She bit her lip as she considered whether or not she could be bothered to do a wash, before deciding that it could definitely wait at least one more day. She summoned a fresh set of sheets from the linen cupboard and dumped them on her bed. She hadn’t made a bed by hand in so long but even so, she _still_ felt a lingering frustration just looking at the fitted sheet. She pointed her wand at the bed again and sighed in relief as the troublesome chore was completed in mere seconds. There was nothing quite like a freshly made bed to perk you up at the end of a long day.

She flipped her head down and used the towel to half dry her hair, then threw the towel at the laundry basket as well. Running her fingers lightly through her still damp hair, she made her way to the kitchen, finding herself feeling strangely disappointed to find no magically preserved breakfast waiting for her this time. She made herself some tea and toast and sat down at the kitchen table, a blank piece of parchment at the ready.

It was still blank half an hour later when the _Daily Prophet_ was delivered. Ginny practically snatched the paper from the delivery owl and got a disgruntled hoot in protest.

“Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly.

She slipped some coins into the little pouch and offered the owl the last bit of toast on her plate, but the owl merely ruffled its feathers importantly and flew away.

Ginny took a deep breath and spread the paper out in front of her.

She immediately wished that she hadn’t.

The first few stories she read were all about her. Opinion pieces, detailed analysis, surveys of the public. She wondered how they had managed to organise all of it so quickly, grudgingly impressed by their inventiveness, if nothing else. But as she read further, she got more and more angry. So many people calling for her immediate dismissal from the Harpies or attributing all problems with modern society to her apparent betrayal of her heritage. Ginny fumed and wished desperately for someone to curse. Someone she could direct her anger at.

She paced angrily around her flat for a few minutes, trying to calm down. She looked again at the blank sheet of parchment and then back at the newspaper.

“Fuck it,” she said out loud and disapparated with a loud crack.

When she appeared in Hermione’s flat, she wasn’t surprised to see the paper spread out in front of her. She looked up at her in concern and Ginny smiled grimly.

“It’s going to have to be Plan B, Hermione.”

Hermione swallowed hard and then looked back down at the paper. She looked back up at Ginny and smiled.

“Okay.”

* * *

Ginny was surprised at how easily they slipped into a routine together. She knew that once she had Hermione on side, the rest would fall into place, but even she struggled to believe just how easy it was to pretend to be in love with her. She’d never really thought about it before, but when people wanted to believe something, they would interpret everything in such a way as to confirm their beliefs. Ginny and Hermione weren’t really behaving all that differently to how they always had, but now people assumed that they were dating. Every act of friendship was interpreted as an act of romance, every instance of companionship was proof of their undying love.

And Ginny did love Hermione, she knew that. But she wasn’t _in love_ with Hermione.

“It’s a shame, really,” she said absently one day, about a month after the first article appeared in the _Daily Prophet_.

“What is?” Hermione replied distractedly, looking up from a textbook she’d been reading.

“That I’m not attracted to women.”

“What?”

Hermione stared at her in shock.

“What?” Ginny replied, surprised. “You knew that!”

“Well, of course I knew that,” Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes. “But where did that come from? A sudden announcement of your heterosexuality seemed a trifle uncalled for, Gin.”

“Oh, I was just reading about how much I love you in this magazine,” Ginny said, holding up _Witch Weekly_ in explanation. “And I was thinking that it’s true.”

“What’s true?”

“I really do love you,” Ginny said seriously, flicking idly through the pages again and not looking at Hermione.

Hermione didn’t reply for a moment and Ginny chanced another glance in her direction.

“I love you, too,” she said eventually, speaking very softly. “But I still don’t understand—”

“And so it’s just a shame that I’m not into women,” Ginny interrupted quickly.

“Oh?”

Hermione sounded amused now and Ginny smirked.

“Yeah, because otherwise we have all the makings of a great couple.”

“Right,” Hermione said dryly. “And I suppose I don’t factor into this at all, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you considered whether _I_ would want to be in a relationship with _you_?”

Ginny’s head snapped up and she stared at Hermione, open-mouthed.

“That’s what I thought,” Hermione said smugly. “You’re so sure of your own attractions, then?”

“Fairly certain, yeah.”

“Well, then, I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you, Gin.” Hermione turned back to her textbook and flipped a page casually. “But I just don’t think of you that way.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing, Granger.”

“I think I know exactly what I’m missing, _Weasley_.”

Ginny snorted and tossed her magazine away.

“Fancy coming to a charity event I’m going to next week?”

“What charity event?”

“Orphans from the War,” Ginny said, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “Our team is hosting an afternoon tea or a lunch or something to raise funds. I’m not too sure of the details”

“If you’re trying to tempt me with displays of your physique, Ginevra—”

“Sod off,” Ginny said, laughing and lowering her arms. “Will you come, though? The whole team is going to be there, and partners are encouraged to attend.”

“Hmm,” Hermione said thoughtfully, putting her textbook aside and watching Ginny with interest. “Quidditch isn’t really my thing, Ginny.”

“It’s not like you have to play!” Ginny said quickly. “It’s just a normal charity event that happens to be involving a team of professional Quidditch players. Come on, Hermione, there’s going to be lots of fit women there.”

“None of whom I could pursue, even if I were so inclined,” Hermione pointed out.

“Oh, right,” Ginny said, deflating a little. “It’ll still be fun, though! I’m sure there’ll be other partners there.”

“Real partners, presumably,” Hermione said distractedly.

“Come on, Hermione, don’t be like that. It’s for charity!”

“Do you really want me to go?”

“Of course, I want you to go!” Ginny said enthusiastically. “It’ll look weird if you don’t.”

“Oh,” Hermione said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Of course, we wouldn’t want that.”

Ginny didn’t register the dangerous tone of Hermione’s voice.

“Great! So, you’ll come then?”

“Sure,” Hermione sighed. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

And so it went on. Ginny kept waiting for other people to get sick of their love story, but the public just kept eating it up and so the newspaper kept reporting on it. Granted, they rarely made the front page anymore, but there was usually something in the paper every day about them. Sometimes a small story about them being seen out in public together, sometimes a series of photos of them eating a picnic in the park or walking arm in arm through the streets. Ginny was most amused, though, by the letters sent in by people taking sides. People wrote in one day to condemn them and then the next day, there was someone writing in their support.

* * *

**LETTER TO THE EDITOR: WHO REALLY CARES ABOUT GINNY AND HERMIONE?**

_We have seen a lot of words written about these two witches recently, and I for one am sick of it! Why do these foolish girls receive so much attention, anyway? It only encourages loose morals in our children and will lead to no good, you mark my words! Why do we need to see so many stories about them and what they’re up to? No one cares! These women and their relationship are irrelevant! Ginny Weasley may be a very good chaser but what contribution is she really making? Nothing!_

_Our society needs leaders and more importantly it needs more children! Men and women need to come together to help rebuild our wonderful community and we don’t need to see all this nonsense about two women supposedly being in love. It is unnatural! What use is love if society is crumbling around us?_

_We need to band together and demand better standards for ourselves and for our children. The very future of our community depends on it!_

_Esme Quilter, Surrey_

“They really will print anything, won’t they?” Ginny said absently, running her fingers through Crookshanks’ fur. “Who the hell is Esme Quilter and why does she care so much about us?”

“She doesn’t care about us, Gin, that’s why she felt the need to write a letter to the editor. That way everyone will know just how little she cares about us!”

Ginny laughed and chucked the paper onto the table, turning her attention back to Hermione.

“So, you were telling me about a project you’re working on for uni?”

* * *

“I’ve been thinking about getting a pet,” Ginny announced out of nowhere one day. “Probably a cat.”

“Really?”

“Will you help me choose one?”

“Are you sure that’s wise, Gin?”

“What? Getting a cat or getting you to help me choose one? Because I’m pretty sure you _have_ to help me choose things like this. It’s part of your official duties as my fake girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you getting a cat is a big commitment. Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Hermione said seriously. “You’re always travelling these days and it might be hard for you to take care of it.”

“I was kind of hoping that I could leave it with you when I’m away? We’ll just have to make sure it’s compatible with Crookshanks. And there’s another good reason why you should help me choose it!”

“Ginny, don’t be daft! You’re away so much that you cat would basically end up living with me full time!”

“And what’s wrong with that? It would be a handy pretext for me to come visit you, especially when I’m away.”

“You don’t need a pretext for visiting me,” Hermione said softly. “And even if you did, having me take care of a cat that is only nominally yours would hardly be excuse enough.”

“I disagree,” Ginny replied solemnly.

“Of course you do.” Hermione rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine, we’ll see if we can find you a cat, but it’ll have to wait a while if you want me to take care of it. I’ve got loads of uni work coming up soon and I won’t have as much free time.”

“As long as we do it before it gets too cold.”

“Why?”

“I’ll want something to snuggle down with at night,” Ginny replied with a grin. “And you won’t let me sleep with you.”

Hermione snorted a laugh.

* * *

One day, Ginny arrived early for one of their regular lunch dates and found Hermione just about to go into a lecture.

“Skip it, Hermione,” Ginny suggested playfully. “Chances are you know it all already anyway!”

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to cover her amusement with a stern expression. “I can’t afford to miss any classes, you never know what they might cover! It could be very important!”

“What could be more important than lunch with me, Hermione?”

“Just come back in about an hour and I’ll be ready, okay?”

“How big is this class, then?”

“How big?” Hermione repeated, confused. “About a hundred people, maybe. Why?”

“So they’re not likely to notice a new face and chuck me out?”

“I doubt it,” Hermione said slowly. “Are you actually suggesting that you attend the lecture with me?”

“Sure, why not?”

“You don’t have to do that, Gin! You’ll probably find it horribly dull.”

“Maybe,” Ginny said with a careless shrug. “But maybe I’ll discover a new passion.”

“A new passion? In a literature class?”

“Your scepticism wounds me, Hermione. I am _wounded_ ,” Ginny groaned dramatically. “Why shouldn’t I be passionate about literature?”

Hermione bit her lip, her resolve wavering and Ginny tried to press her advantage, adopting her most appealing expression.

“Come on, Hermione! I promise I’ll be good! I won’t disturb the class or try to distract you or anything!”

“Well—”

“Best behaviour, I promise!”

“Alright, then,” Hermione said with a sigh, but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “But you really must behave yourself, even if you do think it’s boring! I mean it!”

“Your wish is my command, Hermione. Have you got some paper I can borrow? Let’s do the thing properly and see if I can take notes, huh?”

It turned out that Ginny did _not_ uncover a new passion for classic British literature. She did, however, find out that trying to distract Hermione without seeming to do so was a whole other level of fun.

* * *

One of the more memorable moments they shared with each other had been the time that Ginny had unsuccessfully tried to persuade an extremely reluctant Hermione to go jogging with her.

“Come on, Hermione! It’ll be fun!”

“Clearly, you and I have very different definitions of the word fun, Ginny.”

“But my coach says I need to increase my cardio.”

“Go on then,” Hermione said airily, gesturing at the open window of Ginny’s flat. “And I’ll be right here waiting with a cup of tea when you’re done.”

“Please, Hermione, I hate to exercise alone.”

“I don’t think exercising with _me_ would be an improvement, to be honest, Gin. And don’t you have teammates to do this with, anyway? You know, other people who are paid to play sport professionally and who also need to engage in _cardio_?”

She made the word _cardio_ sound like an Unforgivable curse and Ginny grinned.

“But I don’t want to run with _them_ ,” Ginny murmured, positioning herself behind the chair Hermione was sitting in and resting her arms around her lightly. “I want to run with _you_.”

She pressed a kiss to Hermione’s shoulder and then moved her hair out of the way to press a featherlight kiss to her neck. Hermione gasped and leaned her head away, giving Ginny better access. Ginny obliged, pressing more kisses against her neck while she drew slow, teasing circles on her stomach. Growing in confidence, Ginny trailed her fingers up until the brushed the underside of Hermione’s breasts.

“Ginny,” Hermione whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I would’ve thought that was fairly obvious, Hermione.”

Ginny allowed one of her hands to slip up and cup Hermione’s breast as she watched her face carefully for her reaction, but she had gone too far. Hermione stood up abruptly and walked away from the table.

“There’s no one here, Ginny,” she mumbled, not looking at her.

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Ginny replied, stepping forward eagerly and trying to take Hermione in her arms again.

“So there’s no need for this little performance, is there?” she snapped and Ginny blinked in surprise. “Unless you’re planning to send the pictures in yourself this time?”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny babbled. “I got carried away! I was only trying to—”

“I _know_ what you were trying to do, Ginny,” Hermione said sadly.

Ginny wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight trigger warning may apply for this chapter as there is some more direct hostility aimed at Ginny and Hermione, but still nothing too explicit. No homophobic slurs but some nasty language that is quite pointed.

**HERMIONE GRANGER SPOTTED CHEERING GINNY WEASLEY ON FROM STANDS**

_The couple that is able to share interests is more likely to succeed, according to our resident relationships expert, Michaela Richards. And that’s good news for Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, as they are able to share their love of Quidditch! Hermione has been an enthusiastic fixture at Ginny’s matches for months now and was recently seen to be giving Ginny a congratulatory kiss after the Holyhead Harpies defeated the Chudley Cannons._

* * *

“Great game, Gin!” Ron called out as soon as she was in earshot. “I thought for sure that you were going to fall off your broom when that bludger hit you, but you recovered really well!”

“Thanks, Ron,” she said happily. “I’ll be feeling that collision for a few days yet, I’m sure!”

“Maybe you need a massage,” Hermione suggested, looking her over critically as if trying to discern her bruises through her robes.

“Are you offering, then?” she replied, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Will there be oil involved?”

“No, just salve,” Hermione insisted tartly. “Very smelly, healing salve. It might encourage you to be more careful in future.”

“Careful?” Harry scoffed. “A Weasley? You must be kidding!”

“You should be nice to me, love,” Ginny said, pouting dramatically. “I’m sore _all over_. I might need some seeing to.”

Ron groaned and downed half his pint.

“Can you not do that in front of me, Gin? I don’t like to think of my baby sister getting a _seeing to_ , even if it is just said for a bit of a laugh.”

“Grow up, Ron,” Ginny said airily, sparing barely a glance in his direction. “If I want to negotiate the terms of a sensual massage with my fake, yet loving, girlfriend, here, then I will. And I won’t listen to a word you have to say on the subject. You’re hardly the king of subtlety when you’ve got a girlfriend, anyway.”

“Oy!”

“But it’s been so long, now, that I barely remember what you’re like when you manage to get a girl to go out with you.”

Harry snorted a laugh while Ron went bright red.

“Now, Hermione, as I was saying—”

“It’s a bloody disgrace, if you ask me.”

The loud voice came out of nowhere but was clearly meant to be heard by everyone in the crowded pub. The noise around them softened slightly, the sound of a roomful of people trying to listen without seeming to do so.

“It just shouldn’t be allowed in a respectable establishment like this.”

People were starting to crane their heads around looking for the person who spoke. Ginny felt a vague sense of unease settle in her stomach and saw Hermione clench her hand tight around her glass.

“A disgrace, that’s what I call it. A bloody disgrace!”

“What’s your problem?” Ginny barked, unable to pretend not to hear him any longer.

“You’re my problem,” he snarled. “You and your little Mudblood _whore_.”

Ginny saw red and had her wand in her hand before she knew what had happened.

“Don’t you _ever_ speak that way about my girlfriend again, do you hear?” she bellowed, wand raised.

“Ginny, no!” Hermione screamed.

But it was too late, the hex had already flown from her wand and was making its way speedily to its target.

Ginny didn’t regret a thing. Not even when Harry had to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder. Not even when Hermione dragged Ron away, too. His wand was pointed right at the man doubled over at his feet and he was snarling insults as Hermione forced him outside.

* * *

Ginny was preparing to meet Percy for lunch the day after the little incident in the pub when a knock sounded unexpectedly at her door. She waved her wand in the complicated motion which allowed her to lower her wards enough to see who was outside. Ginny stifled a groan with difficulty when she saw that it was her coach, Stella, at the door. She fought hard against her initial instinct to pretend she wasn’t home. Her childish side desperately wanted her adult side to hide in her bedroom until Stella gave up, but she resisted the temptation and dragged herself reluctantly forward. Then, welcoming smile firmly in place, Ginny opened the door.

“Stella, I wasn’t expecting to see you today! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Ginny wasn’t entirely able to keep the suspicion out of her voice as she said this, and Stella smirked at her knowingly.

“I thought we were overdue for a little chat, Ginny.”

“Oh?”

“And every time I’ve tried to talk to you over the past few weeks, you seem to be just slipping away.”

“Well, actually—” Ginny began, preparing to make her excuses and slip away once again.

“So, I thought it would be better to just pop around to your place, instead,” Stella continued doggedly. “May I come in? I could really do with a cup of tea.”

Ginny stepped back reluctantly and waved her in. She closed the door behind her with a sigh and led the way through to the kitchen.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay long,” Ginny said in what she hoped was an apologetic tone of voice. “I was just getting ready to go meet my brother, Percy. He’s expecting me for lunch.”

“Percy? Which one is he?”

“I’m not sure you would have met him,” Ginny said distractedly as she put the kettle on. “He works at the Ministry.”

Ginny put teacups, milk, sugar and a tin of biscuits on the table and then turned back to the kettle.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been in the papers quite a bit lately,” Stella said promptly, clearly worried that Ginny would dodge the conversation again. “And _not_ for your prowess on the Quidditch pitch.”

Ginny stayed silent as she spooned tea into the teapot and poured the water in.

“Now, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, Ginny,” Stella went on, adopting what she probably thought was a friendly, maternal tone of voice. “I don’t mind what you do in your own time or who you do it with.”

“What a relief,” Ginny said dryly, setting the teapot down on the table with rather more force than was strictly necessary. “I was losing sleep over that, Stella. Really.”

“Ginny—”

“Tossing and turning all night.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Weasley! I’m on your side, here.”

Ginny just barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes and instead picked up the teapot, pouring out two cups of tea.

“So, if you have no objection to my relationship, what do you have an objection to?”

“It’s not that I have any objections per se,” Stella said slowly. “It’s more that I have concerns.”

“About what?” Ginny said impatiently.

“Look, Ginny, Hermione is a lovely girl and I’m absolutely thrilled that you two seem so happy together. You know I have always had allowed certain freedoms in the team when it comes to partners as a happy team—”

“Is a winning team, I know,” Ginny finished the oft-repeated phrase. “So, what’s all this about, then?”

“I need you to be more aware of the image you are creating for yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked, genuinely curious. “What have I done that would be a cause for concern?”

Stella raised her eyebrows and said, “Have you seen the _Prophet_ today?”

“I may have glanced over it,” Ginny said evasively. “Nothing especially interesting—”

“Cut the crap, Ginny!” Stella snapped suddenly. “Brawling in pubs, even in defence of your girlfriend, is not the kind of behaviour we want our players to engage in!”

“I have _never_ been involved in a pub brawl!” Ginny yelled. “And anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar!”

“Oh really? Because from what I understand, the only reason you didn’t end up in a brawl was because you were dragged away! That bloke you hexed was talking about bringing charges against you! Especially when they had so much trouble removing that curse you put on him.”

Ginny smirked at the memory. It _had_ been a good curse and she was secretly quite proud of it. Stella, however, looked thoroughly unimpressed and Ginny tried to look more contrite.

“There is nothing funny here, Weasley. This is serious! The management were talking about suspending you, I’ve only just managed to talk them out of it!”

“What?” Ginny cried; all traces of amusement gone in an instant. “That’s ridiculous! How can I be punished for something that happened off the pitch like that?”

“Because it happened immediately after you finished playing a game and there were lots of Quidditch fans in the pub with you.”

“So?”

“You’re supposed to be a role model! You can’t just do whatever you want, not when you’re a public figure!”

“Since when am I a public figure?”

“Since you joined our team! And even more since you started to deliberately court controversy with your relationship.” She held up a hand as Ginny opened her mouth, looking furious. “No, don’t try to deny it! You could have kept it quiet and no one need ever know! But you chose this, Ginny. You _chose_ this.”

“This wouldn’t happen if I was a man, you know,” Ginny muttered mutinously. “I’d be getting a pat on the back and told I’d done the right thing for threatening to hex that bloke’s bollocks off. No one would care if Hermione were a man, either!”

“Perhaps,” Stella conceded ruefully. “But you’re _not_ a man, Ginny. And no matter how much we may dislike it, we have to live in the real world.”

“The real world is stupid,” she huffed.

“Sometimes it is, yes.” Stella drained the tea from her cup and stood. “Now, this little chat of ours has been unofficial. Off the record, so to speak.” She looked down at Ginny sternly. “But if you end up in the paper again for something like this, official action may be taken against you and I will be powerless to stop it. Do you understand?”

Ginny smiled grimly and drained her own cup.

“I understand perfectly.”

* * *

“Ginny! I was starting to wonder if you were coming at all!” Percy called out when he caught sight of her. “Everything okay? You look a bit flustered.”

“I’m fine, Perce,” Ginny said, sitting down heavily in the seat across from him. “I just got a bit of a bollocking from Stella, is all.”

“Really? What for?”

“Oh, just something she saw in the _Prophet_ ,” Ginny said vaguely, picking up the menu and avoiding his eyes. “I’m starved, what’s good here?”

“Ginny,” Percy said seriously. “I saw some of what they’ve printed in the paper as well.”

“Maybe I’ll get steak.”

“And I’m not surprised that your coach is upset, she’s got her team to think about, after all.”

“Or a quiche? Have you ever tried their quiche, Perce?”

“And you really should count yourself lucky if there are no legal repercussions for what happened in that pub.”

“Oh, they have fish and chips!” Ginny said loudly, determinedly ignoring Percy’s disapproving look. “Maybe I’ll get that.”

“But, really, Ginny, I think everyone who cares about you is worried about this path you’re going down.”

“What path?” she snapped, finally looking up from the menu.

“Baiting the press, brawls in pubs,” he raised his eyebrows and gave her a meaningful look, “snapping at anyone who expresses concern for your welfare.”

Ginny scowled at him and said, “Are you approaching your point, at all? Because if you only invited me here to lecture me, then I’d just as soon eat at home.”

“I don’t want to lecture you, Ginny! I want you to stop and think about what you’re doing!”

“Well, I’m _currently_ rethinking my decision to have lunch with you.”

“I mean with Hermione,” Percy hissed, leaning forward. “I don’t know if you realise just what you’re risking with her through your behaviour.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Percy?”

“Hermione is a very smart young woman—”

“Understatement of the century,” Ginny muttered.

“And she won’t put up with this kind of nonsense forever, not even for your sake.”

“What kind of nonsense?” Ginny scoffed. “Hermione and I are completely together on this, I guarantee it.”

“There are no reporters here, Gin,” Percy said quietly. “So, who are you trying to fool?”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open in shock and she stared at him, her feelings hurt in spite of herself.

“Perce,” she whispered.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you,” he continued in a kinder tone of voice. “But I know something about what happens when you stop caring about how your actions affect the people around you.”

“What are you talking about, Percy?”

“Just hear me out, okay?” he said in a rush. “My ambition nearly cost me my family.”

“What?”

“I allowed myself to be blind to how my behaviour and my choices were hurting the people that I loved. The people that loved me.” His voice broke a little and he trailed off, clearing his throat, embarrassed.

“Are you honestly comparing your abandonment of our family to my relationship with Hermione?” Ginny hissed, narrowing her eyes. “Because if you _are_ —”

“I’m not,” Percy said dully. “I know that it doesn’t compare. I _know_ the damage I did and I know that I will have to carry that with me for the rest of my life. Some things can’t be undone, Ginny, and that’s the point!”

“But I still don’t understand,” Ginny said, softening slightly in the face of his obvious distress. “What has this got to do with me?”

“Nothing can undo the damage I did, Ginny. _Nothing_. And I don’t want you to make the same mistake. I don’t want you to damage your relationship with Hermione just so you can thumb your nose at the rest of the Wizarding community.”

Ginny opened her mouth to respond and stopped, unsure of what she should say.

“Now, I don’t know the true nature of your relationship with Hermione, Ginny,” Percy continued in a calmer voice. “But I want you to know that as your brother, I will support you as much as I can. If you choose to pursue a more serious relationship with Hermione or not—”

“Percy,” Ginny said, laughing, “not you, too! Why does everyone refuse to believe me when I say this is all a joke? It’s not real, none of it!”

“If you say so, Ginny,” he said doubtfully. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

Ginny grinned fondly at him and reassured him once more that there was nothing for him to worry about, either with her or Hermione. Percy nodded and then looked down at his menu.

“You know I’d support you, though,” he said suddenly, and Ginny was surprised to see a slight blush staining his cheeks, but he didn’t look up. “You know, if you were, um, well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, Perce,” Ginny said, still grinning. “Thanks.”

As she turned her attention back to the menu, she couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was suddenly so _keen_ on her being keen on Hermione. She mentally shrugged this train of thought off as something that could wait for another day.

“I’m going to have the steak,” she announced.

* * *

A few days later, Ginny met Hermione in her favourite café near her university. She was still a little fixated on her conversations with Stella and Percy, and had made a concerted effort _not_ to read any of the rubbish printed about her in the _Prophet_ , so she was looking forward to having an easy afternoon with Hermione. Her mood immediately perked up as soon as she caught sight of her, sitting at a small table and happily perusing the menu.

“Hello, love,” Ginny said happily, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek “You’re looking luminous today!”

“Ginny, you’re such a flirt,” Hermione said fondly, gesturing at the chair across from her. “Have a seat so we can order quickly.”

“Hungry, are we?” Ginny murmured, obligingly sitting down. “What do you fancy?”

“Oh, something sweet! Definitely something sweet.”

“Just order the afternoon tea, then,” Ginny said, tossing down her unopened menu on the table. “And then you can tell me what’s got you so worked up.”

“Worked up? What do you mean?” Hermione asked curiously as she gestured to the waitress.

Ginny let her order for them before she spoke again.

“Come on, Hermione, spill. You’re practically bouncing in your chair right now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione said with dignity as she stilled the restless movement of her body. “Really, Ginny, the things you come out with sometimes.”

“Uh huh,” Ginny said dryly. “You’ve seen quite a lot of me over the years and you have never once been this excited to see me. So, what is it, really?”

Hermione grinned and dropped her display of ignorance.

“I may have made a breakthrough with my parents!”

“That’s fantastic, Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed, grasping at her hand and giving it a squeeze. “What kind of a breakthrough?”

“Well, you know how I’ve been trying to talk to them a couple of times a week? Well, the last two times I’ve spoken to my mum, she’s actually remembered who I was. She even brought up a story from when I was a baby!”

“Really? That’s great!”

“Ginny, I can’t tell you how it felt to hear her tell that story!” Hermione continued excitedly. “Voluntarily, too, with no prompting from me! She used to tell that story over and over again when I was younger and it used to drive me nuts. I would always get so embarrassed.” She grinned ruefully. “But after so many years of nothing? This just feels like the beginning of something new! I may actually get my parents back one of these days!”

“This calls for a celebration!” Ginny said, calling the waitress over again and ordering two glasses of champagne.

An hour later, pleasantly full and just the wrong side of tipsy, Ginny held the door open for Hermione to precede her onto the street. As she followed her out, she noticed a familiar face skulking in the bushes not far away. She smirked and took Hermione’s hand in hers. When Hermione turned to smile at her in question, Ginny leaned forward and planted a kiss directly on her lips.

It was just meant to be a quick peck, just something to tease the stupid photographer. But when Hermione’s lips opened in surprise under hers, Ginny stifled a groan and stepped closer to her. Ginny cupped Hermione’s cheek with her hand and deepened the kiss. Hermione grabbed the front of Ginny's shirt tightly and made a low, whimpering sound that made Ginny ache in a way she didn't want to examine too closely. 

She told herself that it was all for show.

It didn’t mean anything.

She had more trouble than usual believing it.


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny was over at Hermione’s, idly flicking through the channels on her TV when the invitation arrived. The owl flew right in the open window and dropped the envelope in her lap before flying out again.

“Hermione!” she called out. “You’ve got a letter – oh!”

She looked at the envelope in shock. It very clearly said ‘Ms Hermione Granger and Ms Ginevra Weasley’ followed by Hermione’s address.

“What is it?” Hermione asked curiously, leaning over her shoulder. Ginny held the envelope out in silence and Hermione took it, turning it over to check the back. “Oh, it’s from Ernie! It must be the invitation to his wedding.”

“Wedding?” Ginny said stupidly. “Invitation?”

“Yes, Ginny,” Hermione said teasingly as she opened the envelope and drew the parchment out. “An invitation, to a wedding. Quite standard, I assure you. You must’ve received one of these before?”

“Yeah, but never one addressed to _both_ of us! What’s Ernie playing at? Aren’t these things usually sent to each person with a plus one?”

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly and looked at her, waiting for her to figure it out for herself.

“What?”

“Gin, he’s addressed it to both of us because he would’ve assumed that we’d attend together, and not _need_ a plus one each.”

“Why on earth would he think that?” Ginny asked incredulously, before realisation dawned. “Oh.”

“Yes, I expect he’s been reading the papers,” Hermione said quietly, gesturing at the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table. Ginny could just make out a picture of the two of them walking arm in arm through a park in London. “You can hardly blame him for believing it, Gin, especially when you’ve put so much effort into making it believable.”

Ginny watched as Hermione wandered over to the tiny kitchen, reading the parchment as she went.

“So, what does it say?” she asked impatiently a minute later when it became clear that Hermione wasn’t going to volunteer any details.

“Oh, just the usual thing,” Hermione replied, carelessly tossing the invitation in Ginny’s direction.

It landed well short of her and Ginny snorted a laugh, summoning it to her with a flick of her wand. Hermione opened the fridge and stared listlessly at its contents for a minute while Ginny read aloud.

“Ernie Macmillan and Maisy Reynolds request the honour of your presence at the celebration of their marriage.” Ginny sighed as she skimmed over the rest of the details. “Country hotel, traditional ceremony, reception to follow.”

“Hmm,” Hermione murmured absently. “Are you hungry?”

“Guests are encouraged to stay at the hotel and share breakfast with the happy couple the morning after.”

“Uh huh,” Hermione said, closing the fridge door and joining Ginny on the couch. “Normal sort of thing, I suppose. What’s the dress code?”

“Wait, you want to go?” Ginny asked, incredulous.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we go? Ernie was a good friend to us at Hogwarts, especially towards the end, and he’s always seemed happy to see us since then.” Hermione watched Ginny, a shrewd look on her face. “Is there a reason you don’t want to go?”

“No! Of course not, if you’re happy to go then we’ll go.”

“But?” Hermione prompted.

“Well, it’s just that it’s two Pureblood families,” Ginny said slowly. “Old ones.”

“And?”

“And it might be a little awkward going together, that’s all.”

“Because I’m a Muggle-born?” Hermione asked sharply. “Or because I’m a woman?”

“Both,” Ginny said honestly. “But like I said, if you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

Hermione looked away from her, staring into space while she considered what Ginny had said.

“I don’t want to skip Ernie’s wedding just because of that,” Hermione said quietly. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, either.”

“I’m not uncomfortable!” Ginny insisted. “Look at how comfortable I am!”

She lay back on the couch, putting her head in Hermione’s lap. Hermione laughed and pushed her away.

“Seriously, Gin, maybe it’s time to stop this whole thing. Come clean, say that we’re not really dating.”

“Oh, come on, Hermione! We’ve been having so much fun with it!”

“Have we?”

“Haven’t we?”

Hermione sighed and picked at a loose thread on her robes.

“I guess I’ll need to get some new dress robes for the wedding, then. It’s been ever so long since I bought any and I don’t really fancy wearing any of the ones I’ve got. How about you?”

“Don’t change the subject, Hermione,” Ginny said sternly. “Do you want to stop this? Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“Not uncomfortable, really, but there’s this, uh—” Hermione cleared her throat and Ginny was intrigued to see the blush spreading across her cheek. “There’s this woman I’ve been sort of seeing.”

“Oh really?” Ginny said huffily but with big grin on her face. “And just when were you planning on telling your fake girlfriend about this? Who is she, Hermione? Tell me who you’d be willing to risk our fake relationship for!”

“Don’t joke, Gin, this is important,” Hermione said, turning in her seat to face Ginny full on. “Her name is Eve and I met her about six weeks ago. We’ve been out a few times, quite a few times, actually. She’s a Muggle and it’s certainly not anything too serious yet, but I wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea. I mean, it’s bad enough that I’m keeping magic a secret from her, I can’t begin to imagine how she’d react if she knew about our little,” Hermione gestured vaguely between them, “arrangement.”

Ginny turned her body to face Hermione’s and took up both her hands, squeezing gently.

“Hermione, this was all meant to be a bit of a laugh,” she said quietly. “A way to stick it to the papers that are always trying to get into all of our lives. It’s not meant to stop you from pursuing something that you actually want.”

Hermione nodded but kept her eyes downcast. Ginny placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up, smiling reassuringly at her when Hermione met her eyes.

“Look, I don’t want to get in the way of something that makes you happy, okay? And if you want to pursue a relationship with this Muggle woman, then I’m not going to be the one to stop you. I will graciously bow out of the game and allow her to steal my woman away from me.”

Ginny got just the reaction she was hoping for when Hermione laughed and batted her hand away.

“If you want me to be your woman, Ginevra Weasley, you’re going to have to learn to treat me a lot better!”

“Seriously, though, I want you to be the one to decide. It’s my fault we’re in this mess to begin with, but when you’re ready to get out of it, just say the word.”

“Hmm,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “How would we go about it, though? Just in case I decide that it is what I want.”

“Well, we could stage a breakup now so that there won’t be any awkwardness when we have to go to the wedding next month? Or, we can just do nothing, let them get bored of us on their own? They seem to have been heading down that path as it is.”

“You sound almost disappointed,” Hermione said, watching her closely. “Are you sure you’re not enjoying all this just a little bit too much?”

“Don’t be daft! This is all just a bit of fun! We get to go on spending time together like we always do, and we get to poke fun at all the useless idiots at the _Daily Prophet_ trying to peddle their lies to an unsuspecting public. It’s perfect!”

* * *

A week later was Ginny’s birthday party at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had insisted on throwing her a party even though Ginny had tried to tell her that she’d be travelling with her team too much and would be exhausted. But Mrs Weasley was not to be dissuaded and so Ginny had graciously conceded defeat.

Apart from the entire Weasley clan, of course, there were a few of Ginny’s friends invited as well as her teammates. Ginny could have done without all of the attention, especially once Hermione arrived. When Ginny went to greet her, she could feel the eyes of more than a few people on her.

“Happy birthday, Gin,” Hermione said happily, pulling her into a hug.

“Thanks! So glad you could make it, you look lovely!” Ginny grinned when Hermione blushed at the compliment. “Harry and Ron are around here somewhere, I’ll come find you later, okay? Just have to play hostess for a little while.”

Hermione nodded and wandered off in search of her friends. Ginny watched her go, narrowing her eyes suspiciously when she saw George amble up to her, a large grin on his face.

“Ginny, I need you!” Mrs Weasley called out and Ginny turned away reluctantly. She lost sight of Hermione in the crush of people there and wasn’t able to find her again for over an hour. When she did eventually get a moment alone with her, she pulled her outside and shut the door firmly behind her.

“Sorry about that lot,” Ginny said ruefully as she led Hermione further away from the door. “They’ve been desperate to see us together ever since that first news story broke and this is the first opportunity for a lot of them. Especially after that last article in the _Prophet_. Did you see it?”

“The domestic bliss one? Yeah. Apparently you made some _rather_ suggestive remarks while we were out shopping for dress robes. You must have been talking to someone else, though, because I don’t remember anything especially suggestive.”

Ginny blushed and bit her lip.

“I may have said a few things to get the reporter all worked up,” she said sheepishly. “It was just a joke, though!”

“Just like everything else, right?” Hermione said shrewdly. “All of this is one big hilarious joke.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hermione waved away the apology and smiled at her playfully. “George has spent the last twenty minutes demanding to know what my intentions are towards his baby sister. He really seemed quite determined to defend your honour against any perceived slight or future fickle tendencies on my part.”

Ginny groaned and buried her face in her hands, feeling the blush spreading irresistibly across her cheeks.

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Perhaps not,” Hermione conceded, sounding remarkably unconcerned about the whole thing. “But I was a little surprised at just how eager they all seemed to find out the true nature of our relationship.”

“It’s a family trait,” Ginny mumbled. “We inherit all that insufferable eagerness along with the red hair and freckles. It should be included in the family motto.”

“Hmm,” Hermione said, like she hadn’t really been listening to a word Ginny said.

Ginny rolled her eyes and said, “It’s nothing to worry about, really. They’re just having a bit of fun at my expense. My brothers are taking full advantage of the fact that I won’t retaliate while Mum and Dad are around, especially at a party like this one.” She chuckled derisively. “Shows how much they know. I’d happy curse them all, no matter who was watching, given the right provocation.”

“Yeah, but, Gin,” Hermione continued pensively. “The way they were all acting, the kinds of questions they were asking. It just got me thinking—”

“That’s my girl!” Ginny interrupted loudly, holding up her hand in a merry salute. “Always thinking!”

“I was thinking,” Hermione said insistently, “are you _sure_ they know that this is all staged?”

“What is?”

“Our relationship. Are you sure they understand that this whole thing is fake?”

“You’ve been faking with me?” Ginny cried. “Hermione, say it isn’t so!”

“Ginny, stop messing about. I’m serious!”

“Well, there’s no need. It’s my birthday, Hermione! The worst possible time to be serious!”

> Image Description: Hermione and Ginny are having a private, soft, dream like moment. Hermonie is in a Gryffindor red dress and holding her hands together, looking enthusiastic to give Ginny her birthday gift. Ginny is leaning against the arm of a couch, waiting for what Hermonie is about to give her. Art by Artymakeart. End description.

“I don’t want them to get the wrong idea, Ginny,” Hemione murmured, bumping her shoulder against Ginny’s companionably. “They’re very protective of you, you know.”

Ginny snorted and slung an arm around Hermione’s shoulder.

“Would it be _so_ bad, then?”

“What? Them thinking we’re in a relationship?”

“No, us actually being in a relationship.”

“Ginny,” Hermione sighed, “not this again. It doesn’t matter what it might be like, it’s all hypothetical. It’s never going to happen, so why worry about it?”

Ginny forced a laugh and let her arm drop.

“Right, of course.”

“I’m glad we’ve got a moment, though!” Hermione said cheerfully after a momentary silence. “I wanted to give you your birthday present and I didn’t really want to do it in front of that lot.”

Hermione reached into her pocket and drew out a small package, handing it to Ginny with a shy smile.

“I hope you like it.”

Ginny unwrapped it eagerly and took out a delicate bracelet. She gasped as she held it up to the light to see it better.

“Hermione, it’s beautiful!”

“I saw you looking at it when we were out shopping the other day and thought that it would make a good present.” She smirked. “A very appropriate present for my _girlfriend_.”

Ginny snorted and fastened the bracelet on her wrist.

“I love it!”

“It looks lovely on you, Gin,” Hermione said softly, grasping her hand and bringing it close to her lips. “I knew it would.”

She pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and Ginny felt her heart skip a beat.

“Ginny! Hermione! Are you two out here?”

Ginny looked up and was vaguely annoyed to see Ron outlined in the doorway. Hermione let go of her hand and took a step back, looking embarrassed.

“Can’t a girl get a little privacy around here?”

“Just checking on you,” he said casually, taking a few steps towards them. “Want to make sure no one is mucking about out here.”

“Good idea,” Ginny said. “Wouldn’t want anyone to be mucking about around here. That sort of thing just isn’t going to fly in _this_ house.”

“Mum says it’s time for cake.”

“Okay, we’ll come inside in a minute.”

Ron didn’t move and Ginny glared at him.

“We’re right behind you, Ron,” she said pointedly.

“Come on, then,” he said, not taking the hint.

“Go inside, Ron!”

Ron rolled his eyes and stomped away, muttering under his breath as he went.

“Thank you so much for this, Hermione,” Ginny said as soon as they were alone again. “I love it.”

“You’re welcome, Gin,” Hermione said, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “I’m so glad you like it. I was a little nervous about giving it to you, to be honest. I had a back-up gift just in case.”

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

“A book, of course. I’m still hoping for that new passion for literature, you know.”

Ginny laughed and pulled Hermione into for a warm hug.

“I love you, Hermione,” she whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too,” she replied quietly.

“Will you two quit whatever it is you’re doing and get in here?” Ron bellowed and Ginny sighed.

“Once more unto the breach?”


	7. Chapter 7

The day of the wedding, Hermione came to Ginny’s flat in the morning. It was only natural for them to arrive as a couple, of course, so they’d decided to have breakfast together before apparating directly to the hotel.

“Morning!” Ginny called out when she heard the _crack_ of Hermione arriving.

“Good morning, Ginny,” Hermione replied cheerfully, strolling into the kitchen where Ginny was hard at work making breakfast. “Need a hand?”

“What makes you think I need a hand?” Ginny said sarcastically as she tried to put out a small fire without dousing her whole kitchen in water. “I don’t even know how this happened, for Merlin’s sake. Mum makes it look so easy.”

“What were you trying to do?” Hermione asked curiously, sounding perfectly calm as she watched Ginny struggle.

Ginny gave up the fight and shot water at the stove, ruining whatever chance there had been to salvage the meal. She sighed and then turned to face Hermione.

“I was _trying_ to make a big fry up, but the bacon started to spit at me and then the tomatoes somehow exploded.” She shrugged and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “Domestics just aren’t my thing, I’m afraid. I have brought shame on my family.”

Hermione laughed and leaned against the counter comfortably.

“I won’t tell Molly if you won’t,” she said conspiratorially. “Besides, your talents lie elsewhere. I’m not great in the kitchen, either, but I gave up on that years ago.”

“Hermione Granger, accepting that she isn’t perfect at something?” Ginny threw her hands up in mock despair. “Tell me it’s not true! My world is tumbling down around me!”

“I can admit my weaknesses just as readily as you can, Ginny,” Hermione replied primly. “But whatever my weaknesses may be, _I_ have never set my kitchen on fire trying to cook bacon.”

“It wasn’t just bacon!”

“Well, no matter. Shall we go out for breakfast or do you want to have another go? I think between us we can probably manage toast and tea.”

“Maybe I should have asked Harry to come over,” Ginny said, looking gloomily around the kitchen. “He’s always good in the kitchen.” She banished the remains of the food and set the pan to wash in the sink. “At least I can manage this side of things.”

Hermione didn’t say anything, just nodded absently in agreement. Ginny looked at her closely for the first time since she arrived and was surprised to see a somewhat dreamy smile on her face.

“What are you so happy about?” she said suspiciously.

“We’re going to a wedding today, Ginny! Why shouldn’t I be happy?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Hermione summoned a cup and saucer for herself. She reached for the teapot and poured herself a cup of tea, stirring in milk and sugar with a slightly silly smile on her face.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” Ginny said, a smile spreading across her own face irresistibly.

“Can I pour you a cup?” Hermione asked innocently, holding the teapot aloft.

“Don’t try and dodge, Hermione. Come on now, what’s got you in such a good mood? It can’t just be the wedding, no one is that happy about someone else getting married. Spill!”

Hermione sipped at her tea and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Ginny sighed dramatically and summoned a cup for herself.

“I stayed over at Eve’s place last night,” Hermione said quietly a moment later. “It’s the first time we, well, you know.”

“Oh!” Ginny said, surprised. “Wow, I didn’t know you guys were – but hey, that’s great! Congratulations!”

Ginny turned back to the stove and began fiddling with a frying pan, just to give her hands something to do while she was trying to get control of herself again. She had experienced an instinctive feeling of jealousy when Hermione told her that, and it made her uncomfortable. How could she be _jealous_ of Hermione sleeping with her girlfriend? It’s not like she owed anything to Ginny.

“We’ve slept together before, of course,” Hermione continued placidly. “I mean, we have been dating, properly dating, for more than a month, now. But this is the first time I _slept_ with her. You know, stayed the night.”

“Right.”

Ginny hated herself a little for resenting how happy Hermione sounded.

“It was wonderful, Gin. I felt so at peace, you know? Like I can finally commit to a relationship with her. She’s pretty amazing, I actually think you’d really like her.”

“That’s great, Hermione.”

“It’s always been me who held back, she’s been trying to get closer to me for weeks, but I finally felt like it was time.”

“Really?” Ginny said dully, cracking an egg into the pan without remembering to put oil in it first. It sizzled dangerously and she picked it up without thinking, somehow managing to burn her hand in the process. “Damn it!”

“Leave it,” Hermione said quickly. “Don’t worry about breakfast, we can get something on the way. Or we can eat when we get to the hotel, just for Merlin’s sake, stop trying to cook! You won’t have a home to come back to if you keep this up!”

“Alright, alright,” Ginny muttered resentfully. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I thought you were looking forward to this wedding, Gin,” Hermione said, sounding slightly put out. “What’s got you in such a strop this morning?”

“Nothing,” Ginny sighed, pouring herself a cup of tea and trying to look completely calm and at ease. “Just frustrated by my total inability to prepare a meal, today. That’s all.”

Hermione observed her in silence for a moment before abruptly changing the subject.

“Did you remember to wrap the gift?”

“Yep.”

“Great! There’s one unexpected benefit from having a fake girlfriend to attend weddings with!”

Ginny forced a laugh and sipped moodily at her tea, refusing to even look at Hermione.

_Get it together_ , she told herself furiously.

* * *

When they arrived at the hotel, Ginny had mostly regained her good mood. Hermione’s gushing praise of Eve would need to stop once they were at the wedding, so Ginny was feeling much more charitable towards the whole situation. She walked up to the check in desk and gave the woman their names.

“Thank you, Ms Weasley, we do have a booking here for you. I believe the groom arranged for it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Is the whole hotel booked for the wedding?”

“Yes, we’re only a small hotel so the bride and groom arranged for it to be at their exclusive use for the weekend. Each guest who chooses to stay with us will need to pay for their own room, of course, but the wedding party has ensured that the breakfast is complimentary for all guests. We are an entirely Wizarding establishment, so you do not need to restrict your use of magic on the premises. Muggles cannot enter this hotel and are not even aware that it is here.”

“Great!” Ginny said enthusiastically.

It’s not like she had any particular Muggle in mind at that moment, of course, it was just better that they didn’t need to worry about hiding their magic all weekend. Muggles could really bring the mood down at an event like this.

“Your room is on the second floor, just follow the hallway all the way to the end and then go up in the lift. Room 225. If you have any questions or experience any problems, our reception desk is monitored 24 hours a day. Breakfast is served in the dining room from 7 a.m. to 11 a.m. and we also have in room dining, if you prefer that option. I hope you enjoy your stay!”

Ginny thanked her and took the key. She and Hermione made their way to their room easily, nodding greetings and waving at people they recognised along the way.

“Okay, Room 225, here we go,” Ginny said when they reached the room. “Oh no!”

“What is it?” Hermione asked hurriedly, entering the room behind her. “Oh.”

There was only one bed.

“I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised,” Hermione sighed. “Ernie did book the room for us and we _are_ here as a couple.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ginny said dubiously, “but that doesn’t explain all the rest.”

“Did we accidentally come into the honeymoon suite?” Hermione joked feebly.

It was a fair assumption to make. It looked like someone had arranged for a romantic surprise for them, and Ginny sincerely hoped it was just a mistake. There were even rose petals on the sodding bed. Ginny groaned and covered her face.

“I can go and talk to them about it?” she suggested weakly.

“No need,” Hermione said bracingly. “I mean, it might be a little weird at first, but it actually seems quite nice.”

Hermione started inspecting the room curiously.

“They’ve really gone all out! You should see this bathroom!”

“Please don’t tell me there’s a bubble bath waiting for us.”

“I’m afraid so,” Hermione said, smirking. “Why don’t you get in and I’ll wash your back?”

“Hermione!”

She laughed out loud at the shocked look Ginny knew was on her face.

“You sounded like your mother just then!” she said teasingly.

“You take that back!”

“Absolutely not! It is my prerogative as your fake girlfriend to make you feel as uncomfortable as possible.”

“I don’t think that’s how it usually works, Hermione,” Ginny said dubiously, peeking her head into the bathroom. “Merlin’s beard!”

“How would you know how it’s supposed to work, then? Had a lot of fake girlfriends, have you?”

Ginny snorted and trailed her hand carefully through the water, scooping up a handful of bubbles.’

“It’s like the Prefects’ bathroom at Hogwarts! I’ve never seen a tub this big anywhere else!”

“We could probably share it and still maintain a respectful distance, you know,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to keep my hands off you,” Ginny said honestly.

Hermione laughed and left the room.

“Let me know when you’re done, then!”

* * *

Getting ready for the wedding almost made her feel like a teenager again. She’d forgotten how much _fun_ it could be to get ready for a big event with your best friend. Hermione had helped to braid half her hair, weaving ribbons and flowers through it with a level of skill which Ginny couldn’t help but be amazed by.

“How do you know how to do this stuff, Hermione?” she said, turning her head from side to side to admire her reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, I learnt a bunch of hair charms back at Hogwarts, familiarised myself with helpful potions, that sort of thing,” Hermione replied dismissively. “I’ve just never really bothered to use them on myself. I haven’t got the hair for this kind of style.”

She gestured at Ginny’s smooth hair and perfectly symmetrical braids.

“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do something special for yourself! I can help you, just show me how!” Ginny jumped up and pushed Hermione to take the seat in front of the mirror. “Come on, Hermione, live a little!”

“And I can only live if I try a new hairstyle, can I?”

“It’s a start!” Ginny said cheerfully.

Despite clear scepticism, Hermione sat at the dressing table and shook her hair free from the loose braid she’d had it in. Ginny rand her fingers absently through the strands, trying not to let her fingers snag in any tangles.

“Be careful,” Hermione joked lightly. “I’ve lost brushes back there in the past!”

Ginny snorted and continued to gently play with her hair. She really did love it when it was out like this, and she didn’t see it very often these days. Hermione tended to adopt more conservative styles since she’d left Hogwarts.

“Come on, then,” she said cheerfully after another moment of quiet introspection. “I await your instruction. Tell me what you want. I’m yours to command!”

Ginny stood, poised and ready behind her, wand in one hand. Hermione’s eyes met hers in the mirror and there was a moment of charged silence. Ginny stared, aware of the slight flush rising in her cheeks and seemingly powerless to resist it. She darted her tongue out to moisten her lips and Hermione flicked her gaze down to follow its movement. Then she smiled and looked away, standing up quickly and moving away.

“Thanks for the offer, Gin, but I think I’ll just keep it simple tonight.”

As she spoke, she was using her wand to twist her hair into a perfectly respectable braid, which then doubled back on itself and formed a perfectly respectable bun at the base of her head.

“Hermione,” Ginny said weakly, “you don’t have to—”

“I don’t have to do anything, Ginny,” Hermione said sharply, but then turned to her with a reassuring smile. “Besides, I’m here with my devoted girlfriend. Who could I possibly be trying to impress?”

Ginny laughed loudly and reached her hands out in invitation. Hermione grasped her hands and let out a surprised little squeal when Ginny suddenly brought her close and began twirling her around the room quickly.

“Ginny!” Hermione said, breathless with laughter. “What are you doing?”

“Just testing the strength of your hairstyle,” Ginny explained cheerfully, spinning Hermione away from her and then back into her arms. “Need to make sure you’ll still be looking this _appropriate_ at the end of the night.”

Ginny dipped her quickly, holding tightly to make sure she didn’t fall. Even so, Hermione gripped her shoulders tightly. Ginny smirked at her and then brought her back upright safely.

“Relax, Hermione, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Hermione took a step back and patted at her hair absentmindedly.

“Don’t worry, it’s looking good, Hermione,” Ginny said, going back over to the mirror and sitting down to start her make up. “You could end up upside down at any point tonight and your hairstyle will remain intact.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hermione said dryly. “In case I get any more enthusiastic dippers on the dance floor.”

“Or if you end up going to bed with someone,” Ginny said in a totally failed attempt at indifference. “A lot of people do that at weddings.”

“The only person I’m going to bed with tonight is you, my darling,” Hermione said dramatically, and Ginny raised her eyebrows. “There’s only one bed, remember? And I don’t want to cause a scandal by cheating on my pretend girlfriend, now do I?”


	8. Chapter 8

They had arranged to meet a few of the other attendees in the lobby of the hotel before they made their way to the wedding venue. Ginny and Hermione made it safely back downstairs and were just making some awkward conversation about the décor of the hotel when Harry arrived.

“Hey guys,” he said, a huge smile on his face. “You’re both looking beautiful today!”

“You clean up nice, too!” Ginny said happily, pulling him into a quick hug. “You flying solo tonight, then?”

“Officially, yes,” Harry replied, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s cheek.

“What do you mean?” Hermione cried, instantly intrigued. “Have you been seeing someone without telling us?”

“If I had been, you’d hardly be in a position to complain about it, now would you?”

“Oh, shut up!”

Ginny burst out laughing and slung an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her blushing cheek.

“Careful, Potter,” she said playfully. “Don’t make me defend my lady’s honour!”

“You two are insufferable,” Hermione said with dignity. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“I can think of a reason or two,” Ginny whispered suggestively, squeezing her tight.

“Afternoon, all!” Ron boomed, sparing Hermione the trouble of replying. “We about ready to head over?”

“Just waiting on a few more,” Harry said, scanning the lobby quickly for familiar faces. “Neville and Luna both said they’d meet us here.”

“Neville and Luna, huh?” Ron repeated, grinning. “You ever think there’s maybe something going on between them?”

“No,” Harry said shortly. “Definitely not.”

“You sound very sure of yourself, Harry,” Hermione murmured. “Do you know something we don’t?”

“Lots of things, I expect.”

Hermione scowled and Ron playfully punched him on the shoulder.

“Prat,” Ginny said fondly. “Hasn’t Neville been dating Hannah for a while? I’m almost certain he mentioned it last time I saw him.”

“Oh, yeah! I think you’re right, Gin!” Ron said, a look of dawning comprehension crossing his face. “He’s mad about her!”

“Now you say he’s mad about Hannah? A minute ago, you thought there was something between him and Luna.”

“Things change, Gin. People change.”

“Uh huh.”

“So, Neville and Hannah are a couple these days?” Hermione asked curiously, leaning over to brush an invisible speck of dust from Ginny’s dress robe. “Are they coming to the wedding together?”

“Maybe,” Harry said vaguely, still craning his neck around to check the room. “They may not have been invited together, of course. Not like you two. They’re probably not _that_ well established yet.”

“That’s it, Potter! You and me, outside!” Ginny said as they all laughed. “Can I help it if my love life is inherently more fascinating than yours?”

“Such as it is,” Ron murmured, smirking.

“Oy!” Harry cried indignantly. “You’re one to talk!”

“There he is now!” Ron said loudly, ignoring Harry completely. “Neville! About time, mate!”

* * *

The wedding was a grand affair. Ginny had been to a fair few since the War ended. So many couples had been keen to celebrate love, life and the triumph of good over evil that there were a few months where it seemed like every weekend had included some wedding or another. Ginny understood the impulse, she’d just never felt the need to take the plunge herself. She’d never found a man she could see herself living with forever. Ever since she broke up with Harry, there hadn’t really been any man capable of holding her interest for more than a few dates, anyway. Most of the time she didn’t mind, but there was just something about a wedding that brought out her romantic side.

It was quite inconvenient, actually.

Ginny sighed deeply and watched Ernie rotate slowly around the dance floor with his new bride. Her hands were resting gently on his shoulders and she had her eyes closed, a look of total contentment on her face. Ernie ran his hands gently up and down her back and whispered something in her ear that made her smile, eyes still closed.

“Do you want to dance?” Hermione asked quietly.

Ginny’s head snapped around to look at her, a little surprised at the suggestion.

“Really?”

“We both love to dance, Gin,” she said, a little defensively. “Why wouldn’t we dance at a wedding?”

“An excellent point!” Ginny exclaimed, quickly draining the rest of her champagne. She stood up and offered Hermione her hand with an elaborate flourish. “May I have this dance?”

Hermione put her hand in hers and replied with equal gravity, “It would be my pleasure.”

There was a slightly awkward moment as they figured out who was going to lead, but they sorted it out by laughingly agreeing to a simple sway in place. There were quite a few other couples on the dance floor by this point and there wasn’t a whole lot of room to move, anyway.

“Just relax, Ginny,” Hermione murmured. “It’s only me.”

Ginny breathed in deeply and pulled Hermione closer against her, determined to enjoy the moment for as long as she could make it last.

> Image Description: Ginny is in a red halter top dress, grinning mischievously as she pulled Hermonie into a deep dip mid dance. Hermonie is wearing a butterfly laced royal purple dress, smiling as she cannot look away from Ginny. They are bathed in a warm light. Art by Artymakeart. End description.

Ginny couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun at a wedding. She danced with all her friends, ate too much food and flirted outrageously with Hermione. She knew that Hermione would take her flirtation in the spirit in which it was intended and so she didn’t even try to tone it down. It didn’t matter who could see her holding Hermione’s hand, or who was watching as she tucked some hair behind her ear. Ginny didn’t think twice about pressing a kiss to Hermione’s neck or pulling her that little bit closer to her as they danced through song after song after song.

So, when she leaned over to whisper, “Do you want to get out of here?” in Hermione’s ear, she told herself that it was all part of the act. And when Hermione breathlessly agreed, Ginny ignored the little flutter of excitement in her chest, putting it down to the large quantity of champagne she’d had over the course of the evening.

As they walked back to their room, Ginny held Hermione’s hand tightly in hers. When the walked into their suite, Ginny waved her wand to light the candles and they stared at each other. Ginny felt her heart race as she looked at Hermione.

“Hermione,” she whispered, trailing a finger along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

Ginny cupped her cheek in her hand and slowly moved closer to her. She kept darting her eyes down to Hermione’s lips and then back up to her face, trying to give her every indication of what she intended so she could stop her if she wanted.

“Hermione,” she moaned, her lips so close to hers they were almost touching. “I want you so badly.”

Hermione’s eyes were open wide as Ginny moved that last little bit forward, but she closed them as soon as her lips touched hers. Hermione moaned and grabbed at Ginny’s arms, holding her so tight that it was almost painful.

Ginny deepened the kiss and reached her hands up to Hermione’s hair, suddenly desperate to undo it from its perfectly respectable style. After struggling for a few seconds, Hermione batted her hands away impatiently.

“Ginny,” she whispered.

Ginny leaned in again and kissed her hard, hands running down her body until they gripped her arse. She took the hint and hopped up quickly, wrapping her legs around her waist. Ginny spun them around so she was pressing Hermione against the wall. They both groaned then, and Ginny extinguished the lamps with a wave of her wand, plunging the room into darkness. Hermione moved her mouth to Ginny’s neck and started pressing rough, sucking kisses to the skin there. Ginny threw her head back and moaned, allowing her wand to drop to the floor. Hermione’s hand crept into Ginny’s robe and found her breast. She pulled her mouth away from Ginny’s neck and glared at her, their breathing loud and heavy in the dark room. She pushed against Ginny’s chest gently and Ginny let her stand on her own again.

”Ginny, what is this? What are we doing?”

“I was hoping you’d know, Hermione,” Ginny said playfully. “You’re the one with more experience in this area, after all.”

“Ginny,” Hermione groaned. “We can’t do this, it’s too soon.”

“Too soon?” she scoffed. “How long have we known each other? How is it even possible for this to be too soon?”

“I have a girlfriend,” Hermione said weakly. “Ginny, this is wrong.”

“I’m your girlfriend, here, Hermione,” Ginny said insistently. “ _I’m_ your girlfriend.”

Ginny pulled Hermione to her again and kissed her roughly, moaning loudly when she felt her body press tightly against hers. But it only lasted a few glorious seconds before Hermione pushed her away again.

“No, Ginny, stop! This is wrong!”

Hermione backed up a few steps, holding her hands up to ward Ginny off from approaching her.

“God, what are we doing? Ginny, what are we _doing_?” She put her hands up to her face, looking horrified. “Why are you doing this?”

Hermione looked so upset that Ginny felt a faint twinge of pain in her chest.

“Hermione,” she croaked, taking a step closer.

“Don’t come near me!” she cried, looking terrified.

“Hermione, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

“Do you think that makes it _better_?” Hermione yelled, looking devastated. “Don’t worry, Hermione, I’m just using you for a little gratification, doesn’t matter what you want or how you feel.”

“I didn’t say that!” Ginny said indignantly. “I just thought, you’re into women, so—”

“So that means I’m ready to jump into bed with any woman who looks my way? Come on, Ginny! You know better than that!”

“I do!” Ginny agreed hurriedly. “I’m sorry, can we just forget it ever happened?”

“Forget what? That you kissed me? That you wanted to go to bed with me?”

“Well—”

“Or should we forget that I have a girlfriend? Should I forget that I almost cheated on her just to chase some impossible fantasy?”

“Fantasy?” Ginny echoed. “You fantasise about me? About this?”

Hermione looked at her with such withering contempt that she rushed on.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have kissed you, I know that. As soon as we’re in private, it’s inappropriate.”

“It is inappropriate everywhere, Ginny! We’re not together, remember? You don’t get to just kiss me whenever you feel like it! You don’t get to treat me like this!”

“I know! I was wrong, can we just go to bed?”

“There’s only one bed, Ginny, remember?” Hermione snarled.

“So? You’re safe with me, Hermione,” Ginny promised. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

“Oh! You suddenly remember that I matter, then? You’re suddenly interested in what _I_ want? God, Ginny, I’ve never known you could be so selfish!”

“Selfish?”

“Yes, selfish! I can barely stand to look at you, right now! After what you almost—” She choked back a sob. “After what _we_ almost did.”

“Hermione, please—”

“I think I should just go home,” Hermione said quietly. “We’ve made our appearance at the wedding, now, so I don’t need to stay here anymore.”

“Hermione, please stay,” Ginny begged. “What will people think if you disappear in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t care what people think, Ginny! This is exactly the problem! You care more about what people think of our fake relationship than you do about our _real_ one!”

“That’s not true, Hermione!” Ginny grabbed desperately at her arms, holding her in place so she couldn’t leave. “That’s just not true!”

“Ginny, please, let me go. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Hermione, don’t do this!”

“Why not? Hoping to get some more happy couple pictures in tomorrow’s paper?”

“No, I don’t want you to leave because of a stupid mistake! I made a mistake!”

“Just the one?” Hermione said, a terrible smile on her face.

“Hermione,” Ginny breathed, “please don’t leave.”

Hermione stood very still and Ginny tensed.

“Fine, I’ll stay here tonight,” she muttered eventually and Ginny let out her breath in a rush. “We can talk about your _mistake_ some more in the morning.”

She pointed her wand at the couch in the corner and transfigured it into a small bed. Ginny rolled her eyes and groaned.

“You don’t have to—”

“ _I_ will decide what is best for me, Ginny Weasley,” Hermione barked. “It’s up to _me_.” She raised an eyebrow imperiously. “And don’t you forget it.”

And with that she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

The morning after the wedding was disastrous. Hermione would barely look at her, but also seemed to be taking some pains to conceal their distance from the people around them. Ginny thought that the majority of the guests were still too hungover to pay much attention to anyone else but she was grateful for the gesture nonetheless.

Hermione snagged a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that was on a nearby table and hid behind it for the rest of the meal. Ginny glanced at it once and saw a picture of them sitting down at one of the tables at the wedding, Hermione whispering in her ear and Ginny laughing. Ginny looked away quickly, wondering again how they managed to get this stuff so fast. Someone she knew had to be feeding information and photos to the press, but Ginny was too miserable to devote much thought to who it could be just then.

When Hermione said she was going to head home, Ginny mustered a smile and agreed that it was a good idea. Hermione just stared at her for a minute, not saying anything, until she seemed to shake herself out of her stupor abruptly.

“We’ll settle up later, then?” she said briskly.

“Settle up?”

“The bill,” Hermione said, gesturing around the room. “For the hotel room.”

“Oh! Right, um,” Ginny said awkwardly, “it’s fine, I’ve taken care of it.” She waved her hand in what she sincerely hoped was an appropriately casual dismissal of all concerns. “My treat.”

“Such a nice girlfriend,” Hermione said coldly, leaning down until her mouth was right next to Ginny’s cheek. “I’m the luckiest witch in England.”

With that said, she pressed a perfunctory kiss to Ginny’s cheek and strode out of the breakfast room. Ginny stared after her in shock, fingertips resting lightly against the skin she’d kissed.

* * *

Ginny didn’t hear from Hermione at all for more than a week after that. Every time she thought she should go around to see her, to apologise or perhaps just try to smooth things over, she remembered the look on Hermione’s face when she pushed her away, the sound of her voice when she told her to stop. Ginny still cringed every time she thought of it and every single time her courage failed her. She convinced herself that there was time enough to visit Hermione later. No need to rush and make an awkward situation even worse.

After the first week, she sought refuge in anger. She relished the sense of injustice, convinced now that Hermione was overreacting. Ginny knew she hadn’t done anything _wrong_. It was a mistake, sure, but nothing to be this upset about. Hermione was the one with the problem, she should be the one to fix it. Her feeling of self-righteous rage carried her through the second week. She resolutely ignored the copies of the _Daily Prophet_ which were delivered faithfully every morning. She read the sports section, checked the Quidditch standings and then put the paper away. She was training hard and would be travelling to play matches all over the country for the next few months. She didn’t have time for any of this ridiculous drama in her life. It had started off as a joke and it got a little out of hand, that was all. Things would settle down and they could all go back to living their lives as they’d been before. Hermione and Ginny just friends and Ginny dating men. Things would be awkward for a while, but they’d get through it. Just as soon as Hermione realised that _she_ was the one with the problem.

By the third week, Ginny felt like she was going out of her mind. She had gone back to scouring the newspaper, desperate to see any mention of Hermione. But there was nothing. Hermione must be spending more time in Muggle London, blending into the crowd was so much easier for her amongst the Muggles. They didn’t realise how _special_ she was.

She briefly considered skulking around Hermione’s neighbourhood to see if she could manufacture a totally accidental meeting. She was pretty familiar with Hermione’s schedule and was confident that she could act suitably casual if she did manage to run into her somewhere, but she decided that it was better not to risk it. What if Hermione ignored her? Or, even worse, treated her as if nothing had happened. Initially, that was exactly what Ginny had been hoping for. She’d wanted to pretend that the little incident at the wedding was nothing and that the best course of action was to put it behind them as swiftly and as silently as possible. But after a few weeks of lonely introspection and _far_ too much misplaced anger, she had reconsidered her stance. She didn’t want Hermione to ignore what she’d done. She wanted her to acknowledge it.

Ginny wanted Hermione to tell her that everything was okay.

She just wanted Hermione.

And it terrified her more than she cared to admit.

* * *

Ginny loved to fly more than almost anything else, it made her feel free and able to face absolutely anything. Being able to retreat from all the troubles of her life and take solace in her training regime was especially useful to her in those long, lonely weeks following the wedding. She was training harder than ever but hadn’t been seeing results in her game time and this was starting to draw some comments, not only from her coach and teammates, but also from the media and the general public.

She tried to avoid it as much as possible, but she’d been required to attend more public events than she would choose to on her own and the questions was getting harder and harder to ignore. So, to escape it all, she took to flying more each day. The longer she could spend in the air, the less time she had to spend with all the insipid questions and her own troublesome thoughts. It was brilliant. Flawless. The perfect plan.

But it wasn’t working.

She just missed Hermione.

Trudging into the change rooms after a particularly gruelling practice in torrential rain, Ginny slumped onto the bench in front of her locker.

“Good practice, huh?”

Ginny shrugged and leaned forward on her knees.

“You should really get out of those wet clothes, you know.”

“Uh huh.”

“Is something wrong, Ginny? You’ve seemed distracted lately.”

“I’m fine, Anthea,” Ginny sighed, finally looking up at her teammate. “Just tired.”

“Trouble at home?”

“No!” Ginny snapped. “Why would you think that?”

“Hey!” Anthea said, holding her hands up defensively. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Gin! I was just thinking that you’ve seemed so much happier lately, you know, ever since you and Hermione went public, and I was worried that something had happened. That’s all.”

“Nothing happened,” Ginny said, standing up and turning her back on the other woman. “Nothing.”

She opened her locker and took out her toiletries bag. She peeled her wet robes off and hung them up carefully, knowing that she’d only regret it later if she left them in a heap on the floor like she wanted to. There was something about being in a bad mood that just made her want to be messy.

“Well, I’m here if you ever need to talk about it,” Anthea said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Anything you need.”

“Thanks,” Ginny mumbled, pulling her hair free from its messy ponytail and running her fingers through it.

“And I do mean _anything_ , Ginny.”

Ginny turned to face her, surprised at the tone in her voice. She was standing a lot closer to her than she expected and Ginny fought the urge to back up.

“Uh—” she said awkwardly. “Thanks.”

“Just something to think about.”

Ginny watched in stunned silence as Anthea strolled away.

* * *

Ginny decided that there were far too many confusing things going on in her life that she needed a little simplicity. She needed something easy and familiar, where she didn’t have to pretend.

She needed her mum.

Ginny walked into the kitchen at the Burrow and breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was so good to be home. She could smell something delicious cooking on the stove and she was suddenly starving.

“Mum?” she called out. “Are you here?”

Molly Weasley came bustling into the kitchen, a look of alarm on her face.

“Ginny? Ginny are you alright, dear?”

She pulled her into a hug and then held her at arms’ length, examining her critically.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Ginny said, smiling at the look of concern on her mother’s face. “I just wanted to come for a visit, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay, Ginny!” she said loudly. “But it’s just so rare for you to pop by unannounced like this that I was worried!”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologise! Now, what can I get you? Are you hungry? You look like you need feeding. Sit down.”

Ginny allowed herself to be pushed into a chair and watched fondly as her mum started filling a plate with stew and potatoes.

“Here we are, then,” she said happily, placing the plate in front of her. “Eat up, let me get you a drink. Do you want some bread to soak up that sauce? I’ve baked a lovely loaf just this morning, you know.”

“That sounds great, thanks, Mum.”

Ginny watched her mum bustle around the kitchen and felt the little knot of tension in her stomach ease slightly. She realised that she should come home more often.

Mrs Weasley didn’t press her for information while she ate. She just watched her closely and topped up her plate a couple of times when it looked like she was slowing down. She kept up some easy, light conversation while Ginny ate, telling her all about what had been going on with the neighbours and her brothers. Ginny kept her eyes on her plate and just made sure she made all the right noises, nodding occasionally to show she was still listening.

“Thanks for the food, Mum,” Ginny said when she was finally allowed to stop eating. “I think I needed it!”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Mrs Weasley said kindly. “Any time you need it and anything you need.”

Ginny smiled weakly and stood up to take her dishes to the sink.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?” Ginny said evasively.

“I’m your mother, Ginny,” she replied simply. “I can _feel_ when something is wrong with you.”

Ginny stayed silent as she washed her dishes, taking more care and more time to achieve this simple task than she usually would.

“Ginny?” Mrs Weasley said quietly when Ginny took her seat at the table again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ginny resisted for a few seconds longer before she felt the tears start to build and realised that resistance was futile.

“Oh Mum, I’ve messed everything up,” Ginny groaned, hiding her face in her arms. “I’ve ruined it all.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, dear,” Mrs Weasley said soothingly. “Hermione is a very kind girl and you’ve been through so much together. Have you tried talking to her about what’s bothering you?”

Ginny didn’t bother asking how her mum knew that she was talking about Hermione.

“I haven’t spoken to her since the wedding,” Ginny admitted quietly, not looking up at her mother for fear of what she’d see. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny! What could have possibly happened between you two to make you think that you can’t talk to Hermione? Of all people? Why, you two had become nearly inseparable over the last few months. It really got to the point where your father and I were starting to wonder if, well—”

She trailed off awkwardly and Ginny raised her head to look at her suspiciously.

“Wonder what?”

“Well, you know, dear,” Mrs Weasley said, sounding almost apologetic. “We were wondering if maybe there really _was_ something going on between you.” She paused and watched Ginny expectantly for a moment. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to respond, she continued, “Well? Is there something between you?”

“Like what?” Ginny said sulkily.

“Well, a romance, of sorts?”

“Of sorts?” Ginny burst out, standing up from her chair and starting to pace the room angrily. “What does that even mean? Of sorts?”

“It means that I don’t know how to talk to you about this, Ginny! You’ve been so determined to dismiss this whole affair as if it’s nothing—”

“I thought it _was_ nothing, Mum!” she said desperately. “I thought it was!”

“And now?” Mrs Weasley prodded gently. “What do you think now?”

“I think I’ve ruined it.”

“Ginny, it can’t be as bad as all that. Come now, Hermione has been like—”

“Don’t say she’s like a sister, Mum!” Ginny demanded. “Do _not_ say that, please.”

“I wasn’t going to say she’s like a sister, dear,” Mrs Weasley said calmly. “You certainly wouldn’t be this worked up about it if she were only like a sister to you.”

Ginny stared at her feet, feeling her cheeks flame.

“Ginny, talk to Hermione.”

“What if she won’t talk to me?”

“Hermione loves you,” Mrs Weasley said simply. “And when you love someone, you find a way to forgive them, even when they hurt you.”

“Mum, I don’t know—”

“Invite her to Christmas, Ginny. The holidays are the perfect time to reunite with people, you’ll see!”

“Mum, I—”

“Just invite her, dear. As a favour to me.”

Ginny agreed reluctantly, not sure the holiday season would be enough to get Hermione in the same room as her.


	10. Chapter 10

Real friends, they are extremely difficult to find, and even harder to keep. Naturally, you may always possess any number of good friends, even great friends. Your basic, run of the mill, help you with your homework, lend you a few sickles, talk with you at dinner, complain with you in classes, laugh at your jokes, everyday type of friend. Yes, they can be found anywhere. And as callous as it may sound, in the end, they are essentially replaceable. If you happen to lose one, you somehow obtain another. Perhaps you grieve for the loss, you may mourn for the space they once filled in your life, but you inevitably move on. Life goes on. Good friends are in no way peculiar. But I am not talking of good friends, I am talking of real friends. True friends. Now, they are certainly an endangered species. I am talking of the type of friend who would do almost anything and risk close to everything for your sake. The type that accept you for who, or on occasion, what you are, no questions asked and no exceptions. The type that would willingly die for you. They are those rare creatures that you know will defend you no matter what, even if they know you’re wrong. Real friends stand by you and are willing to forgive your indiscretions, if only eventually.

Real friends, once lost, can never be replaced. And if you’re completely honest with yourself, you know that you never truly get over the loss of a real friend. You mourn their loss for the rest of your life. You tell yourself that it’s only a matter of time, you’ll deal and you will move on. You tell yourself that one day, you’ll think of them and laugh instead of cry. But, if you’re completely honest with yourself you know that revisiting their memories is often just too fucking painful to even consider. As a result, you leave your memories of them to decay in the darkest recesses of your mind, places you are rarely brave enough to visit, until you are sure that you are ready to deal with it. And if you’re completely honest with yourself, you know that for a long time, every time you remember their faces it is a new lesson in pain.

Therefore, Ginny Weasley was rarely honest with herself.

She was also _quite_ drunk. She’d been doing better with the drinking, ever since the regrettable incident with the reporter all those months ago. That time she accidentally outed Hermione and created a fake relationship with her best friend.

She didn’t like to think of it all that often.

She didn’t like to think about all she had risked by being so _fucking_ stupid.

She’d thrown away one of the very best friends she’d ever had. One of the best people she’d ever known. And for what? A prank? A joke?

She rested her head on her arms and groaned loudly.

How could she have been so stupid?

She looked again at the set of photos from the wedding that Ernie sent her. There were a bunch of her with her friends as well as a few of her just with Hermione. There was one in particular that had driven her to start drinking that night. The photographer had taken a photo of them while they were dancing, and Ginny couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that happy. She was holding Hermione close to her and smiling, occasionally pulling back to press a kiss to her cheek. Again and again she watched the vision of her and Hermione in the photo dancing. They both looked so happy.

And she had ruined it. She’d ruined everything.

She refilled her glass, determined to keep drinking until she forgot she’d ever spoken to that damned reporter.

* * *

**TROUBLE IN PARADISE? ARE GINNY WEASLEY AND HERMIONE GRANGER ON THE OUTS?**

_There have been reports that this picture-perfect couple are going through a rocky patch._

_Sources close to the couple describe Ginny as being “distraught” at the growing distance between them._

_“She’s really upset about it,” the source said. “Her and Hermione have been virtually inseparable for years now but they’ve both got such busy careers that they just don’t seem to have time for each other anymore. It’s sad, really.”_

_This reporter wonders if this thoroughly modern relationship is doomed to suffer the fate of all those who choose to put career before love._

* * *

Ginny snorted and turned the page angrily.

“Thoroughly modern relationship,” she muttered as she got up to make herself some more tea. “Who the hell is this source they keep talking to, anyway?”

“I dunno,” Harry said. “It’s not me, I can tell you that much. I’m too busy in my own thoroughly modern relationship to be too bothered about yours.”

“My relationship with Hermione is nobody’s business anyway.”

“Very true.”

“They’re probably just making it up anyway,” Ginny muttered distractedly. “Probably not talking to anyone.”

“Maybe they’re talking but people aren’t listening,” Harry said in a sing-song voice. “That can get very annoying. When people don’t _listen_.”

“I’m listening!” Ginny said defensively. “You said you’re not the source.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “and what else did I say?”

“That you were too busy with your own—”

She stopped speaking as her brain caught up with her mouth. Harry grinned at her, nodding encouragingly.

“Harry Potter!” she yelled. “Are you in _love_?”

Harry’s grin widened even more, and he nodded at her again.

“Well this is fantastic news! Come here, give me a hug!”

She wrapped her arms around him and laughed happily when he squeezed her tight.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” she asked when she pulled back from him. “Or is it – you know—”

“It’s Luna,” Harry interrupted her quickly before she could stumble over her question even more. “It’s Luna, Gin.”

“Luna?”

“Yeah, you remember her, right? In your year at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw, blonde? About yay high—”

“Oh, very funny,” she muttered. “Of course, I remember Luna, she’s a little hard to forget. I’m just surprised, is all.”

Harry gave a sly look and then said, “Surprising romances are all over the place, these days. Me and Luna, you and Hermione, I wonder who Ron’s going to end up dating. I’m thinking, Pansy Parkinson.”

Ginny scowled and sat back down at the table.

“Perish the thought,” she said. “Mum was just barely able to handle the idea of me with a woman, but I think she’d draw the line at a Slytherin.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Harry said, resuming his seat also. “She might surprise you. I mean, Pansy was a nightmare, of course, but if Ron was actually happy with someone who just happened to be a Slytherin?”

“Impossible!” Ginny declared confidently. “It’ll never happen!”

“A lot of people thought it was impossible that you could be with Hermione, or even that Hermione preferred women. Stranger things have happened.”

“I’m not with Hermione, Harry.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I am absolutely certain that Hermione and I are _not_ together. We never were and probably never will be.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

There was a pause as Harry looked intently at her and she stared resolutely at the paper, unable to make out a single word.

“Gin, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m great, Harry. Absolutely fantastic, even. This whole thing with Hermione was a mistake, it’s about time it ended.”

“Oh?” Harry said, sounding surprised. “So, it’s over then?”

“It never started.”

“Hang on, I’m getting some mixed messages, here.” Harry grabbed the paper from her hands and put it down on the table firmly. “Are you saying that your fake romance with Hermione never started? Or that a real romance never started?”

“Both.” Ginny snapped. “Neither.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Ginny,” he said gently, “is there something you want to tell me?”

Ginny bit her lip and looked down at the table, suddenly fighting tears. She shook her head.

“Nothing you want to get off your chest?” he prompted. “Sometimes it can help to talk about it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she gasped. “I don’t know how to fix it, Harry.”

“Fix what?”

Ginny let out a sob and Harry came to her quickly, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms. Ginny cried loudly and buried her head in his shoulder as Harry passed his hands soothingly over her back. She didn’t know how long they stood like that but when Ginny pulled back to look at him, his smile was understanding.

“How long has it been going on?”

“What do you mean?” she said, sniffling slightly. “How long has what been going on?”

“How long have you had feelings for Hermione?”

“I don’t—”

“Gin,” Harry interrupted her with a laugh. “I recognise the signs of a lovesick fool when I see them, okay? And these days you are about as pathetic a case as I’ve ever seen.”

“Hey!” Ginny snatched the paper from the table and held it up threateningly. “I am _not_ pathetic!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.” Harry grinned as he dodged away from her as she tried to swat him with the paper. “And I was pretty pathetic for a while, myself. I was pining like an idiot for weeks before I realised how I felt about Luna.”

“And you love her?” Ginny asked tentatively. “You know for sure you love her?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, sounding perfectly content. “I really love her. I never would have guessed it, but she just makes me happy.”

“That’s great, Harry. I’m really happy for you.”

“You’ve gotta work on your happy for people look, Ginny,” Harry said dryly. “You look pretty miserable for someone really happy.”

Ginny laughed and swatted at his arm playfully.

“Don’t be a prat.”

“Seriously, though, Gin.”

“What?”

“Are you okay? With everything that happened?”

“I’m fine.”

“Have you spoken to Hermione?” he asked gently.

“Not much,” she admitted. “Not at all, actually. But I’ve just been so busy lately, you know.”

“Uh huh.”

“I have! I’ve had training almost every day, and you know how exhausting that is! And I’ve needed to do some media appearances with the team and some charity events—”

“Wow, I’m surprised you managed to find time to see me today.”

“Prat.”

They grinned at each other for a moment before Harry turned serious again.

“Does Hermione know?”

“Maybe.”

“Gin?” Harry said, sounding amused. “What happened? Did you make a pass at her or something?”

Ginny blushed and lowered her eyes.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? How can you _sort of_ make a pass at someone?” Harry laughed. “What did you do?”

“I got a little carried away at the wedding,” Ginny muttered. “I think I may have had a bit too much to drink.” Harry snorted and Ginny rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not the first one to do something a bit stupid after a few drinks.”

“Very true,” Harry agreed solemnly, “but you have seemed to do quite a lot of rather stupid things after you’ve been drinking.”

“You make it sound like I have a drinking problem!” she cried indignantly. “There have just been a few incidents lately—”

“All involving Hermione,” Harry said slyly. “I wonder if that means something.”

“You’re enjoying this whole thing far too much, you know.”

“I mean, it _could_ be a coincidence that you get ridiculously drunk around Hermione,” he continued calmly. “And it _could_ be a coincidence that you made up a fake relationship with her—”

“Alright, alright, I get your point, Harry.”

“I’m not sure you do, Gin.”

“Then spell it out for me,” she said impatiently. “Because apparently I’m too thick to understand anyone’s signals these days.”

“I think that you’ve developed feelings for Hermione and rather than confront them directly, you’ve created this elaborate ruse to have her be your girlfriend without having to admit that it’s what you really want.” Harry stared at her intently and raised his eyebrows. “But that’s just my opinion. I could be wrong, of course.”

“Yeah,” Ginny breathed, staring into space.

“But am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Wrong?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Ginny looked down at her hands.

“I don’t know.”


	11. Chapter 11

Ginny met Luna for afternoon tea later that week. She’d been keen to catch up with her ever since Harry had confirmed their relationship to her. Ginny enjoyed indulging her curiosity a bit where they were concerned, wondering vaguely what Harry was like with her. Ginny had mostly fond memories of her time with Harry and the break-up of their relationship had been remarkably friendly. She had no illusions about the place she held in Harry’s life and had no desire to occupy any role other than good friend, but still, she wondered what their relationship was like. She supposed that she would always have some interest in his relationships, and he in hers.

But Ginny started to regret her decision to discuss romance with Luna when she started getting all philosophical about how much she loved Harry. Ginny kept trying to divert the conversation to safer, less embarrassing topics, but Luna was not to be deterred.

“To be loved by someone like that,” Luna continued insistently, “someone so brilliant, so powerful, with an aura that just _glows_ —”

“Er—” Ginny said awkwardly.

“Harry is a very special person, of course. Singled out from an early age, destined for greatness, as it were.”

“Right.”

“But he chose his own path, eventually, even though he knew that it would cost him dearly. He still did what he knew to be right.” Luna positively glowed with pride as she said, “I value someone who can stand up for what they believe is right, even if when the people around you turn against you.”

“Hmm.”

“And that’s why I value Harry so highly.” Luna nudged Ginny gently to make her look at her. “And it’s a quality I have always admired in you, Ginny.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Ginny said softly, a wistful smile stealing across her face. “I’m so happy for you both, Luna.”

“Thank you,” Luna said, smiling warmly. “You know it means the world to me to have the support of my friends.”

“And that is something you will always have!” Ginny said stoutly. “You can always count on me to back you up, Luna, you know that.”

“I do,” Luna said solemnly. “And I am grateful to you for it.”

“Well, I for one am glad that you and Harry figured it out for yourselves,” Ginny said after a moment. “The way Harry tells it, he had some truly miserable moments trying to work himself out.”

“It can be challenging to make the transition from friends to lovers,” Luna agreed, nodding wisely. “But with the right person, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Risk?”

“The risk to the friendship,” Luna said. “Any change like that can be scary. I know that Harry worried that he would lose me as a friend if he tried to be something more to me. He told me that it was one of the reasons he struggled for so long to come to terms with his feelings.”

Ginny bit her lip to prevent a smile. The thought of Harry confessing his feelings to Luna was quite diverting.

“Life is full of risks,” she said once she'd gotten herself under control again. “Lucky you love a Gryffindor, huh? We’re all about those risks!”

“Sometimes you are. Other times, you seem _quite_ risk-averse.”

“Oh? Like when?”

“When faced with an impossible love.”

“Don’t be daft, Luna! There’s no such thing as impossible love! Just, well—”

“Risky love?”

Ginny huffed a laugh and sat back in her seat.

“Well, you and Harry are quite the pair, aren't you? You’re both getting to be quite annoyingly perceptive.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Only when it’s directed at me!” Ginny said, laughing. “But maybe you’re both seeing things that aren’t there.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No,” Ginny sighed. “I don’t suppose I do.”

“Harry is a very special person, Ginny. And I count myself lucky to have had him as a friend, no matter where our relationship ends up.”

Ginny smiled at her fondly.

“To be loved by someone like that is intoxicating,” Luna continued dreamily, before her eyes suddenly seemed to snap back into focus. “But, of course, you’d know all about it.”

“Oh, I don’t think Harry ever loved me. Not really. Not like he loves you.”

“Of course, he didn’t,” Luna said dismissively and Ginny narrowed her eyes.

“It’s not like our relationship was meaningless, Luna! We did care about each other!”

“You do insist on misunderstanding me today, Ginevra.”

“Don’t Ginevra me!” Ginny yelled indignantly.

“I meant that he could not have possibly loved you in the way he loves me because no two loves are the same. We change, we grow, we need different things. The love you two may have felt all those years ago will always be different to the love we feel now. We love in different ways as we get older.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, feeling a little stupid now. “Well, I guess when you put it like that—”

“And I wasn’t talking about Harry, anyway.”

“You weren’t?” Ginny asked, confused. “Who were you talking about, then?”

“Hermione, of course,” Luna said simply. “To be loved by someone like Hermione, someone so devoted and loyal and brilliant, well, it must be quite transformative.”

“Yeah,” Ginny said wistfully. “I imagine it must be.”

* * *

By the end of the week, Ginny was just about going out of her head. Deciding that enough was enough, she changed into some Muggle clothes and rummaged through her cupboards looking for something she could take with her.

 _Never go to someone's house empty handed, Ginny_. Her mother's voice rang through her head and she smiled.

She thought about taking the photos from the wedding, but figured that it might trigger more bad memories than good.

She really did need to do a big shop sometime soon. Her food situation was becoming dire as she became more and more used to eating out. One more casualty from her fallout with Hermione was her willingness to undertake anything even remotely domestic. Hermione had been so good for her in that way, giving her a reason to _want_ to stay in. They'd even managed to cook together a few times without needing to put out any unexpected fires.

Eventually, she dragged out an unopened box of chocolates that she'd forgotten she even had and disapparated with a crack.

When she found herself outside Hermione's door, Ginny stared morosely at the box of chocolates in her hands, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot. What had she been thinking? She knew better than to try to win Hermione over with sweets. She wasn’t a child, for Merlin’s sake! But at the moment, this was all she had with her and so she was determined to try to see it through. Now that she’d finally made the decision to try and speak to Hermione, she couldn’t chicken out just because she didn’t have a good enough plan of action.

Reminding herself firmly that risks were worth taking when it came to people she cared about, she brushed some dust off the box of chocolates and, with fresh resolve, she knocked on Hermione’s door. She shifted from one foot to the other as she waited impatiently for the door to open.

A moment later, a woman she didn’t know opened the door. She was tall, much taller than Ginny was, and she had dark hair cut very short in a very flattering way. She was quite a striking woman and Ginny felt her heart sink within her. She put a hand to her messy ponytail self-consciously, before she realised what she was doing and dropped it quickly to her side.

The stranger smiled at Ginny but she could only gape back at her.

“Uh—”

“Hi, you must be Ginny!”

“Yes?” Ginny said, utterly confused. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Silly me, I’m Eve.” She held out her hand and Ginny shook it absently. “I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I already know you!”

“Really?”

“I’m so happy to finally meet you! Come in! Hermione’s just changing clothes.”

Eve stepped back from the door and Ginny wandered in, suddenly grateful that she had thought to change her robes for something more appropriate for Muggle society. Hermione entered the room a minute later and stared at Ginny in shock.

“Hey,” Ginny murmured, wishing that they were alone. “Sorry to drop by like this.”

Hermione shook her head slightly and Ginny didn’t know what she meant by it. Did she mean that she shouldn’t have come? Or that it didn’t matter that she’d come?

“You’ve met Eve, I suppose,” Hermione said after another moment of pained silence.

“Yes, she was kind enough to let me in.”

“Good.”

They stared at each for another long moment before Eve cleared her throat and they both snapped their eyes in her direction. She was looking curiously from one to the other.

“You guys went to school together, right?”

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

“But you’re just friends?” Eve said, sounding a little unsure.

“Yes,” they replied together again.

“Right.”

There was a very awkward silence that Ginny couldn’t bring herself to break.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?” Eve said to Hermione who nodded absently. “I’ll see you later, love,” Eve continued, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s cheek.

Ginny flinched.

“Bye.”

“Nice to meet you, Ginny,” Eve said with a friendly smile.

“Likewise,” Ginny croaked, mustering a smile that was more of a grimace.

Hermione and Ginny remained frozen, neither moved as Eve put her coat on and left, closing the door behind her. Ginny waited until she could hear her footsteps echo down the hallway before she spoke.

“I brought you these,” she said, holding up the box of chocolates.

Hermione’s eyes darted down to them and then back up to Ginny’s face, eyes narrowed. Ginny took the lid off and waved them at her hopefully.

“Ginny, what are you doing?” Hermione asked gently.

“Um,” she said awkwardly. “Giving you chocolates?”

“Yes, but _why_ are you giving me chocolates? Is it because you think I’ll like them? Or is there another reason?”

Ginny’s shoulders slumped and she put the lid back on the box, putting it down on a table.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she groaned.

Hermione sighed and put a hand on Ginny’s arm. She jumped at the contact and then blushed when Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“What do you want from me, Gin? What do you really want?”

“I want to try—” She stopped herself abruptly and stared down at her hands. “I want to have a relationship with you.”

“You have a relationship with me.”

“Yeah, but I want to have a _real_ relationship with you.”

“What do you mean by a real relationship?” Hermione asked insistently.

“You know what I mean,” Ginny muttered.

“Ginny, if you can’t even tell me what you want, how can you expect to act on any of it? Do you mean you want a friendship with me? Do you want to go back to letting people believe we’re together? Do you want to kiss me? Do you want to sleep with me? What do you _want_?”

“I want you!”

“But _how_ do you want me, Gin? Do you just want me because I rejected you?”

“No, of course not!”

“Do you just want me because you’re questioning your sexuality? Am I just a phase for you? A joke? A fling? What is it this time?”

“Why does it matter?” Ginny cried, her frustration getting the better of her. “If I want you, does it really matter _why_?”

“Of course it does!” Hermione yelled. “How can you even ask that question? Do you not realise the position you’re putting me in? Did you forget that my _girlfriend_ let you in, today?”

“Of course, I didn’t forget your _girlfriend_ ,” Ginny said sarcastically. “How could I forget your girlfriend? Perfect Eve—”

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione hissed dangerously. “Don’t you _dare_ —”

“I’m sorry, Hermione!” Ginny said quickly, holding her hands up placatingly. “I just don’t know what to do!”

Hermione glared at her and then stalked away. Ginny trailed awkwardly behind her and watched her put the kettle on. She still didn’t speak as she started to make tea for them both, but she was clearly still angry. She broke two cups and spilled the tea leaves on the floor before she was able to finish the job. Ginny watched her apprehensively, trying to work out what the right thing to say was.

“My mum told me to invite you to Christmas,” Ginny blurted out when she couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“Did she?” Hermione said coolly, holding a cup out to Ginny.

“Um, yes, she did.”

Hermione didn’t respond, just stared at her in silence.

“So?” Ginny prompted a moment later.

“So, what?”

“Will you come to Christmas?”

“You haven’t invited me yet.”

“Yes, I did!”

“No, you said that your mother had told you to invite me, which isn’t the _most_ flattering invitation I’ve ever received, by the way—”

“Is flattery what you want, Hermione? Because I can do that!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny,” she snapped. “Stop acting like I’m some stranger that you need to tip toe around. I’m your friend.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed glumly. “My friend.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe I don’t want to just be friends.”

Ginny searched Hermione’s face desperately, but she gave no clue as to what she was thinking.

“Ginny,” she said stiffly, “I will not be an experiment for you.”

“That’s not what this is!”

“You messed up, okay? You messed up and you hurt me and now you don’t want to admit it, so you’re pretending to be attracted to me!”

“No!” Ginny cried desperately, trying to put her arms around Hermione but she shrugged her off. “Hermione, that’s not it at all!”

“Oh really? So you’re not using me for publicity? Or as part of an elaborate prank on the rest of the Wizarding community? This is all totally sincere? Forgive me if I have trouble believing you.”

“What can I do? How do I fix it?”

“You need to figure that out yourself, Ginny!”

“I’ve tried!”

“Have you? Really? Or have you just sulked for a while because I wouldn’t just roll over and open my legs for you at the first invitation?”

Ginny stared at her, shocked at her choice of language.

“What did you think was going to happen?” she continued angrily. “Did you think that as soon as you decided that I was really worth your time, I’d be so pathetically grateful that I’d take whatever scraps you deigned to throw my way?”

Ginny winced as Hermione’s voice got louder and louder.

“Do you know why I was so hurt by what you did at the wedding?”

“Why?” Ginny asked, not entirely wanting to hear the answer.

“Because you took advantage of me! You knew I had feelings for you! You knew I was attracted to you! You knew it and you took advantage of me!”

“You’re attracted to me?” Ginny echoed faintly. “Since when?”

“Don’t give me that crap, Ginny!” Hermione screamed and Ginny spared a thought for the neighbours, hoping there was a strong, permanent silencing charm in place. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know! Don’t even try to pretend! Not with me!”

“I’m not pretending, Hermione,” Ginny said as earnestly as she could, desperate to get through to her now. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Then why did you do it?” Hermione whispered, all the fight seeming to go out of her in a second. “You’ve said it a hundred times since this whole thing started: you’re not attracted to women. Why did you suddenly do this?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

Ginny sighed and sat down on the couch, staring morosely into her mug of tea.

“I thought this whole thing was under control, you know? Just a bit of a joke, nothing too serious. Certainly nothing that would ever hurt either of us.”

Hermione sat next to her and Ginny turned to her with a faint smile.

“I thought our lives wouldn’t change that much, to be honest.” She huffed a rueful laugh. “It seems stupid, now, looking back, but I just thought that you and I could go on living the way we’d always been. Hanging out, having a laugh, normal stuff. But—”

“But, what?” Hermione prompted gently when Ginny stopped talking.

“But apparently I’m a fucking idiot,” she said harshly. “Because apparently everyone but me could see how I felt about you! Apparently, it was so bloody obvious that people in my own family thought we were together! Everyone I met seemed absolutely convinced that our relationship was genuine.”

“Perhaps it was all that kissing,” Hermione murmured, and Ginny snorted. “But I still don’t understand, Ginny. Are you trying to say that this whole thing _was_ genuine?”

“Not at first, no,” Ginny admitted. “But it’s been a while since I’ve started feeling, well, different around you. Not in a bad way, mind! Just, well,” Ginny floundered somewhat, “not in a way I ever expected to feel about _you_.”

“I know the feeling,” Hermione whispered.

Ginny reached out a tentative hand and Hermione took it, giving it a slight squeeze.

“I just don’t know how to fix things, now. I’ve made such a mess of everything and I can’t bear to think that we can’t be together anymore. I just miss you so much, Hermione! And I honestly don’t know how to live my life without you in it.”

“You don’t have to, Gin. I don’t want to know what life is like without you in it, either,” Hermione said kindly. “But you can’t just expect me to keep playing this game with you, it’s gone on long enough. We’ve got to come clean.”

Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

“Absolutely.”

“No more messing about with reporters, no more pretending to be in a relationship that isn’t real. From now on, anything between us needs to be genuinely felt.”

Ginny took a deep breath, looking at Hermione hopefully.

“Does that mean—”

“It means I have to think about things, Ginny,” Hermione sighed. “You need to give me time to think.”

“Of course,” Ginny said, trying to sound patient and understanding. “Take all the time you need.”

Hermione laughed and bumped her shoulder against Ginny’s.

“Patience isn’t your strong suit, Gin. But I appreciate the effort!”

“Lucky I have so many other good qualities, then!” Ginny replied playfully. “Qualities, I might add, that are excellent in either a friend _or_ a girlfriend. Take your pick, really!”

“Simple as that, then? I pick friend or girlfriend and that’ll be it?”

“I want you in my life, Hermione,” Ginny said, shrugging. “If that means only as a friend, then that is a great and noble sacrifice that I am graciously willing to make.”

Hermione snorted and shook her head, saying, “Why do I put up with you, Ginny?”

“Because you love me, Hermione!” Ginny said enthusiastically. “Because you _love_ me.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, sighing. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Come to Christmas, Hermione,” Ginny begged. “Come to Christmas with me and we can start again.”

“I’m not sure we can, Gin,” Hermione whispered sadly. “I’m not sure I know _how_.”

“We can figure it out together!”

“Oh yes? In front of your whole family?”

“No! Just us, you and me! We can figure it all out together!”

“I need to think about it, Ginny,” Hermione said firmly. “I will try to make it to the Weasley Christmas, but I won’t make any promises. Not when I don’t know if I can keep them. And you need to be okay with that.”

Ginny nodded, trying to convey how seriously she was taking this, and Hermione smiled at her.

“And stop acting so weird around me, Gin! We’ve known each other too long for you to be acting like this.”

“I’ll try, Hermione, but I don’t know if you've heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Maybe you would have read it in the papers? Weirdness is kind of my thing these days.”

“Not with me, it isn’t.”

“No, I don’t feel weird around you,” Ginny said seriously, putting her hand on Hermione's knee. “With you I always feel perfectly alright.”

Hermione looked at Ginny's hand on her knee and sighed again.

“Ginny, if you only knew what you do to me.”

“I'll do whatever you want me to, Hermione,” Ginny murmured, squeezing her knee. “ _Anything_ you want.”


	12. Chapter 12

When she left Hermione’s place that day, she knew that she would have to be patient. She also knew that patience was right up there with _demure_ and _docile_ and _resigned_ in the list of qualities that she did _not_ possess. So she knew that the week leading up to Christmas would be a long one. She distracted herself by cleaning out her flat and trying to make it more welcoming, just in case she had reason to welcome someone into it at some point. No one in particular, of course. Just anyone who happened to drop by. She stocked her kitchen cupboards with plenty of food and put up one of her favourite photos of her and Hermione from the wedding in the hallway. Not too obvious or ostentatious, but in a position where she was guaranteed to see it every day.

When Christmas finally rolled around, she shrunk down Hermione’s present along with everyone else’s and put it in a pocket of her cloak, where she could keep it hidden just in case. She was determined not to let the rest of the family see how anxious she was today. This whole charade just seemed like a bad dream and she desperately wanted to put it behind her. So, celebratory smile firmly in place, she apparated to the Burrow on Christmas morning.

No matter what she told herself, however, Ginny caught herself repeatedly looking for Hermione all throughout the day. And every time she did, she’d tell herself firmly to knock it off. All the way through opening the presents, the preparations for the meal, eating and cleaning up afterwards, her eyes kept drifting to the front door. She felt like she’d only devoted part of her attention to every single conversation she’d been involved in that day, so determined was she not to miss Hermione’s arrival.

But she didn’t come.

By the time they were all sitting down with drinks in their hands, she had pretty much given up on seeing Hermione at all. She tried to convince herself that it didn’t really matter. Hermione probably wouldn’t be ready to forgive her yet and she had to find a way to be okay with that. She’d fucked up. Royally. Totally. Inexcusably. And she knew that she needed to face the consequences for just how badly she’d fucked everything up.

But even as she acknowledged all of that and told herself again and again to be patient, she knew it was no good. She was _desperate_ to see Hermione again. Desperate to move on from the mess she’d made of things. Desperate to find a way back to the friendship they’d shared, even if it could never be more than that. She had to keep telling herself that her selfishness had caused the problem and she needed to think about Hermione for a change.

So, naturally, she wasn’t in the most festive of moods that Christmas. She made it through a few more hours after the meal before she made her excuses. Her mum tried to get her to stay, but she was adamant. She needed to get away. There were too many happy, loving couples around, for one thing. Especially since Harry and Luna had joined them after having lunch with Luna’s dad. Ginny tried not to let the jealousy burning in her gut show on her face as she saw Luna play casually with Harry’s hair while she sat in his lap. They were talking to George as if all of this were perfectly normal. Who sat in someone else’s lap like that, anyway? It was not like there was a shortage of chairs in the house.

So when it finally looked like she would be able to make her escape without being noticed, she slipped quietly towards the back door. Just as she was about to slip through it, however, her mum appeared in front of her.

“Mum, I—” Ginny began, not quite knowing what excuse she would offer for sneaking away on Christmas Day.

“I know, dear,” Mrs Weasley said softly, holding open her arms. “I’m sorry she didn’t come.”

Ginny blinked furiously and rushed into her mother’s arms. Mrs Weasley rubbed her back soothingly as Ginny choked back a sob.

“I don’t know why I thought she would come,” Ginny admitted quietly. “I wouldn’t have, if I were in her position.”

Mrs Weasley chuckled and pulled back to look at her. She cupped Ginny’s face in her hands and smiled.

“Don’t lose hope yet, Ginny. Christmas isn’t over.”

“I’m not sure I should be pinning my hopes on a Christmas miracle, Mum,” Ginny mumbled, wiping her eyes. “That only happens in stories.”

“I’m not suggesting you pin your hopes on a miracle, Ginny. Nothing as intangible as that!”

“What, then?”

“I’m saying you should pin your hopes on Hermione.”

* * *

After leaving the Burrow, Ginny apparated directly into her flat and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

She was alone.

At last.

“Hello, Ginny,” Hermione said softly from behind her and Ginny let out an undignified shriek.

“Hermione!” she gasped, clutching at her chest. “You scared me.”

“Obviously.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About an hour, I think,” Hermione said vaguely. “I was waiting for you.”

“Well, yes, I picked up on that much. Why didn’t you just come to the Burrow? You know you would have been welcome.”

“I know, but I didn’t really want the fuss, you know?” Hermione said quietly. “I couldn’t really face the whole Weasley Christmas, but I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So I thought I’d just come around and wait for you.”

Ginny felt a faint hope flutter in her chest as she smiled at Hermione.

“Well, I’m really glad you came. Can I get you something? Cup of tea? Something to eat?”

“Some food would be great, if you don't mind? I haven't really eaten today and I'm famished!”

“I've got some leftovers that Mum forced me to bring home with me, would you like some of that?”

“Oh, yes, please!” Hermione said enthusiastically.

“Come on, then,” Ginny said with a smile.

“I’ve broken up with Eve, by the way,” Hermione said suddenly.

Ginny, on her way to the kitchen, nearly tripped over her own feet in shock.

“You did?” she cried and then rapidly tried to adopt an air of indifference. “That’s too bad. Why did you break up?”

Hermione smirked at her, clearly not believing her little performance.

“You don’t really need to know, do you?” she said innocently. “Surely it’s enough to know it’s over?”

“Do not toy with me, Granger,” Ginny said as sternly as she could manage with a huge grin on her face. “I know curses you wouldn’t even believe.”

Hermione laughed and bumped her shoulder against Ginny’s playfully. Ginny took a moment to enjoy how natural it felt to be with Hermione again.

“It was all getting to be too much, what with having to hide the magic and everything. I only really started seeing her because I needed—”

She broke off suddenly and looked down at her feet, embarrassed. Ginny approached her slowly and tipped her chin up, searching her face intently. Hermione tried to dodge away but Ginny grabbed her arm.

“Hey, don’t do that! What were you going to say?”

“Nothing important,” Hermione said, a little shrill now. “How about those leftovers, then?”

“What did you need, Hermione?” Ginny said gently, pulling Hermione closer. “When you started seeing Eve, what did you need?”

Hermione bit her lip and Ginny’s eyes darted down automatically.

“I started seeing her because I needed to feel desired, Ginny,” she said in a rush. “I felt like you were just using me and assuming that I wouldn’t be hurt by it or that I was a _safe_ option for you to have a fake relationship with because you would never develop an attraction to me.”

“Hermione,” Ginny breathed, shaking her head slightly at the sudden burst of information, “I didn’t—”

“Do you have any idea how that felt?” Hermione cried desperately. “To know that you felt safe flirting with me in public and making a big show of being in love with me because you knew it would never develop into anything?”

“Hermione, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

“That doesn’t make it better, Gin,” Hermione whispered, bowing her head. “It made me feel like I was just a big joke to you. That me being a lesbian was just a convenient fact for you to exploit for your own amusement. I was outed because of you!”

“Hermione, I’m sor—”

“So, when I met Eve,” Hermione continued quickly, “I thought that I could have something a little safe, too. A nice, normal, Muggle relationship with a woman who could never hurt me the way—”

“The way I could?” Ginny finished dully.

“The way you could,” Hermione agreed. “But it wasn’t right, I wasn’t committed to Eve at all and she deserved better than what I could offer her. So, I let her go.”

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, smiling. “I really am. I never felt right in that relationship, to be honest. I was very fond of Eve, but she wasn’t what I was looking for.”

“Oh?”

“She wasn’t what I really wanted, you know?”

“And what do you really want?”

“I would’ve thought that was fairly obvious, Ginny,” Hermione said coyly.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”

“I was actually thinking that I could put something in the paper about it. You know, just to make it official.”

“Make _what_ official, Hermione?”

“I was just thinking that I could find a convenient reporter to announce my feelings to the world. You know, it’s so much easier than just talking to the person themselves.”

“Oy!” Ginny said indignantly. “I didn’t _know_ how I felt about you when you did that!”

“And how do you feel about me?” Hermione said insistently. “I need you to tell me, Ginny. I can’t be the one to do this.”

“Would you like me to put an advert in the paper? Or should I give an interview about it?”

“I think you should start by telling me, Ginny.”

“Well then,” Ginny said softly, taking a step closer to Hermione. “I love you, Hermione Granger, and I would like you to be my girlfriend.”

Hermione grinned and leaned forward.

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

Ginny laughed joyfully and pulled Hermione in for a kiss.

* * *

Epilogue

Ginny sloshed into the locker room grumpily and threw her broom at the wall. She was not at all pleased when it simply dodged the wall in a smooth arc and then flew away. She glared after it angrily.

“Rough day?”

The voice came from the doorway and Ginny whipped around, her wet hair somehow managing to smack against her face and Ginny scowled angrily before her mouth dropped open in shock at the sight that met her eyes. Hermione was standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a smile, her wand tucked behind one ear.

“Hermione,” Ginny hissed, looking around frantically to make sure no one else was around. “What are you doing?”

“I thought I'd stop in and see you,” Hermione said simply and she sauntered into the room, hips swaying.

“I'm more worried about how much of you everyone else will be seeing!” Ginny said, stripping off her wet robes and holding them out to her very, very naked girlfriend. “Put that on!”

Hermione took the robe obediently but dropped it straight on the floor. She kept walking towards Ginny determinedly, and Ginny backed up until she was against her locker. Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu as she watched Hermione approach.

“Don't worry, Ginny, no one but you is going to see me like this. Anyone approaching this room will suddenly have pressing business elsewhere and I triple locked the door.”

“Oh?” Ginny said, smiling in anticipation now. “And why would you do that?”

“Don't you know?” Hermione said innocently. “Can you have forgotten what today is?”

“Er—”

“Have you seen the _Daily Prophet_ today?” Hermione said, taking her wand and summoning a copy of the paper from a bag near the entrance. “See? They've put on a _lovely_ spread for our anniversary.”

“Anniversary?” Ginny echoed, confused, looking down at the paper Hermione handed her. “What anniversary?”

**EXCLUSIVE:** **WEDDING BELLS FOR GINNY AND HERMIONE?**

_Rumour has it that Ginny Weasley is planning a surprise engagement for her one year anniversary with Hermione Granger! Take a trip down memory lane as we take you through the highs and lows of their first year together!_

Ginny snorted in disgust and Hermione smiled.

“One year ago today you told that reporter that you loved me, Gin,” Hermione whispered, tucking her wand back behind her ear and then tracing her hands down Ginny's front. “And so I thought I should come here and show my appreciation in person. You see, I forgot to get you a gift.”

“Oh really?” Ginny said with a laugh.

“Yes, and I feel just _terrible_ about it.” Hermione slid her fingers into the waistband of Ginny's trousers and started to slide them down. “Will you ever forgive me?”

Ginny watched Hermione lower herself to her knees in front of her and held her breath. She threw the _Daily Prophet_ away carelessly and focussed all her attention on Hermione.

“Anything for you, love,” she whispered. “Anything for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! My first foray into a WLW multi-chapter fic! I want to give a shout out to the artists, Showknight and Tpants for creating such wonderful pieces or art for me, and a special thanks to Tpants for coming through as a pinch hitter for me not once but twice! You guys are amazing and I can't get over how beautiful your art is. Thank you!
> 
> A huge thank you to the mods for organising such a wonderful event and keeping me accountable for what I've signed up for. You guys have been so wonderfully understanding and patient as I got my shit together for this, as well as offering some helpful last minute corrections! Thank you for your contributions to the HP WLW community! We always need more content and you've helped facilitate a massive amount of content through this Big Bang, and I just can't thank you enough!
> 
> And finally thanks, as always, to anyone who reads/leaves kudos/comments, it really does make my day!


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